


Press F

by choupichoups



Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Messy boys just trying to live their best lives, Romance, instagram au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-27
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2019-11-06 08:41:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 54,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17936513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/choupichoups/pseuds/choupichoups
Summary: Lucas swears he’s the absolute master of undetected stalking.Or: Eliott is Instagram famous and Lucas is the disaster gay who accidentally likes his post.





	1. Chapter 1

He smiles down at the screen, scrolling through the hilarious comments on the post. The exaggerated marriage proposals are probably his favourite because, honestly, _same_ but he’d never be caught dead saying shit like that. Even as a joke. 

Maybe. 

Lucas sinks deeper into the couch, dimming the brightness on his phone screen just in case Yann happens to look over at some point. It’s not like Yann doesn’t know what he’s up to most of the time, but he’d still like to save himself from some of the teasing, thank you very much.

“Did you see that?” Yann yells at no one in particular, fully engrossed in the game they’re playing. Or they _had_ been playing, since Lucas died in the game a good few minutes ago. He’s got better things to do anyway— like check _the guy’s_ profile for any new updates he might have missed. Lucas isn’t exactly on top of his game when it comes to keeping up with Instagram but ever since his great discovery, he’s spent more time scrolling through the app in more recent times that his entire high school years combined. 

“I’m doing another round of this before we switch up the game, okay?” Yann murmurs, already pressing the buttons before Lucas even replies. The latter shrugs, doesn’t care whether he gets to play for the next while. He’s much too preoccupied staring at the new photo he’s been graced with. 

The dude, the myth, the legend. Eliott Demaury.

Lucas found out about him nearly two months ago— or more accurately, he found Eliott’s short film, _Polaris_ , while scrolling through Youtube one dull Friday night. He’d watched the entire thing at three o’clock in the morning and promptly obsessed over it for the next couple of hours. Finding the director’s Instagram and seeing a puzzle posted on it hadn’t doused his interest either. If anything, that just made it worse. His last two braincells had worked in overdrive trying to rewatch the film and solve the puzzle at the same time.

Needless to say, he’d managed to find Eliott’s personal account in the end but the feeling of accomplishment only lasted until he saw that quite a lot of people had also found it. Mr. Demaury, has, in fact, half a million followers on his Instagram and Lucas could have probably found it easily if he’d just googled it instead of driving himself nuts figuring out what the riddle meant. 

“Man, this is too hard.” Yann groans from beside him and Lucas can only assume he’s lost another round. He offers a vague noise of sympathy for his friend. “Are you really doing this right now?”

“Hm?” 

“You’re really out here stalking your man during our _we time_?”

Lucas drags his gaze off of Eliott’s majestic photo so Yann can get a full view of his frown. “Our what now?” 

“This is _our_ time, Lucas. Best friend bonding time. 22h to 24h, it’s on the contract.”

He starts laughing, can’t help it when faced with the truly affronted expression all over Yann’s face. “What contract?” 

“You signed it when you were like two years old.”

“Uh huh.” Now certain that Yann’s just talking nonsense, Lucas returns his attention back on his phone. “Legit age to be signing contracts.”

Yann doesn’t say anything but he steals Lucas’ phone from his grip and holds it out of reach when Lucas scrambles to get it back. “You don’t even follow him, what the hell?”

“That doesn’t matter, give it back!”

“So what, you just search up his profile all the time?”

“What about it?”

“That’s so sad, Lucas.”

“Shut up,” he says, snatching his phone back once it’s finally in his reach. “Imane knows this guy, I won’t hear the end of it if they get even a little _hint_ that I’m looking at— Yann!” he screeches, shaking Yann’s shoulder with one hand while his other holds the phone up to his face.

The horror in his voice must be evident because Yann immediately straightens up, dragging Lucas close so he can take a look at the screen as well. “What?” 

“Oh no… oh no no _no_.” 

“Oh shit.”

“What do I do?!” Lucas waves his phone at Yann, almost decking him on the nose in the process. Yann stills him, shaking his head at the bright red heart below Eliott’s post. “Do you think I should unlike it? I can still do that right? He won’t see the notification, he gets a lot anyway.”

“No, man, that just makes it weird.”

“But…”

“You have to follow him.”

Lucas gives him a withering look. “Are you serious right now?”

“It’s natural! You like the post, okay, chill, next you follow. He gets lots of notifications, as you said. By the time he checks back, 200 other people would have followed him too. Wait a couple more days then unfollow and unlike.” Yann rubs at his back, sounding so sure of himself. “Then you can go back to your sad stalking ways after that.”

He shoves at Yann with a scowl, making sure to kick at his friend’s limbs as he slides off from where he’d basically crawled into the other’s lap in a desperate bid to retrieve his phone. And look where all that effort has gotten him. 

“You sure that’s not weird?”

Yann throws a pillow at his face. “I already said it’s natural. Honestly if somebody did that to me I wouldn’t think anything weird of it.”

“Okay.”

Lucas hits the follow button, closes out of the app, and shoves his phone under the cushions. Whatever happens next is a problem for tomorrow. 

 

* * *

 

He doesn’t go back on Instagram until well into Tuesday evening, choosing instead to finish all of his homework and maybe do a little bit of reading ahead of time for his biology class. It’s a wonder how much one is capable of getting done while avoiding the thing they usually obsess over. 

But he’s only human. So letting go of all the self control he’s managed to conjure up the entire morning, he pulls up the app and slowly scrolls through the new content. He doesn’t know why he’s dreading this so much anyway— literally _nothing_ is probably going to happen. Eliott won’t even notice the new addition to his massive following and Lucas would be able to see his posts without having to search up his username all the goddamn time. It’s a win-win. 

Lucas doesn’t curb the smile pulling at the corners of his lips, even though a small part of him is a little disappointed. Not that he’s expecting anything to come out of this ridiculous infatuation anyway but knowing what _Polaris_ is paired with that caption, the post sounds increasingly more romantic the longer he thinks about it.

So Eliott’s taken already. That’s cool. Great. But this is nice, at least, Eliott’s posts being readily accessible for him like this. Maybe he shouldn’t have made a big deal about following the guy in the first place. Only Imane seems to know both Eliott and Lucas anyway and she’s not the type to unnecessarily pry into other people’s business. 

He still doesn’t hit _like_ on the post though. He has to be _subtle_ about this, he’ll wait a couple more posts to go before liking another one. Lucas is extra careful to avoid double tapping the screen when he goes back to his feed, no longer holding his breath for a catastrophe as he mindlessly goes through other new posts and notifications. 

Which explains why he’s entirely too unprepared for what happens next.

_**srodulv** started following you_

He clutches at his phone with both hands, forcibly shoving down the urge to scream and throw his phone out the window. He’s ill-equipped to deal with this. It’s not supposed to happen; Eliott shouldn’t have noticed him and Lucas should be free to get on with his life without knowing that some god in human form has probably seen the dumb photos he posts with him and the gang and— oh god, what did he post during that party last week again? It doesn’t look too stupid does it?

Lucas frantically skims through his own profile, wanting to shrivel up and die for every post he finds way too embarrassing to be seen by _the guy_. 

The apartment door creaks open and Lucas throws himself off his bed, running out to the living room and most likely startling Yann out of his mind but that doesn’t matter right now.

“Yann!” he yells out, reminiscent of the panicked tone he’d used the night before. 

“Huh?” Yann turns around, dropping his bag on the floor as he slips out of his shoes.

Lucas stands in front of him, holding out the phone over his head like it’s Simba. “He noticed me,” he whispers as if there’s a chance that anyone else would hear them.

“Who?” Yann looks from Lucas’ wide eyes to the phone in his hand. The screen is eye level for Yann so he merely peeks up to see what all the fuss is about. “Oh.”

And then Yann starts laughing. Lucas, personally, doesn’t find anything amusing in this situation. 

“Can you stop that? I’m so stressed out right now,” he huffs, bringing the phone back down to his chest so he can stare some more at the notification that changed his life. 

“Sorry, you gotta admit it’s a little funny.”

It’s not, but okay. Lucas continues frowning down at the screen, wondering if it would be too weird to mass delete half of his old posts. 

Yann takes his phone away before he does anything stupid. 

“You said he won’t even realize,” Lucas mumbles miserably, mind flashing back to that one stupid meme he’d posted about three weeks ago. God, Eliott’s going to unfollow in the next ten minutes. 

“I’m not right about _everything_. Anyway, isn’t this a good thing? The guy only follows like 20 people and you’re one of them.”

Wait, what?

He reaches up, tilts his own phone in Yann’s hand so he can confirm that with his own eyes. 

And okay, maybe that makes him feel a little giddy inside. Deep down. Just a little. 

“Congrats, man. Not everyone gets noticed by their crush.” 

“I don’t have a crush.”

“Sure.”

“Shut up.” 

His phone beeps with another notification and they both look down at it simultaneously, like birds honing in on loose bread. It’s almost comical the way they gasp in unison when the notifications start popping up. From Instagram user _srodulv_. Eliott. Eliott’s straight up just… liking a lot of his posts. Embarrassing memes included. 

Yann opens his mouth to say something but Lucas grabs the phone out of his grip and runs back into his room, shutting the door so he can freak out in peace. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me, a person who doesn't have instagram: *wakes up at 2am* gENIUS FIC IDEA
> 
> That's it, that's how this started
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

Lucas feels attacked.

Ever since the great Instagram fiasco of last week, Eliott has been liking every single one of Lucas’ new posts. Every. Single. One.

So Lucas, confused and alarmed, could only retaliate by liking all of Eliott’s posts as well. 

Their strange little game doesn’t go unnoticed, of course. The universe simply never spares Lucas from such situations. The boys tease him about it endlessly while Emma and Manon circle around the topic like the most unsubtle vultures in existence. Lucas brushes them off with responses so bullshit they drop the subject out of sheer exasperation. 

Imane eventually asks as well, probably sick of seeing both sides suddenly liking each other’s posts out of nowhere.

“I didn’t know you and Eliott were close,” she says once they’re both settled at the back of the library and for once Lucas would actually prefer it if she focuses solely on their studying. 

“Uh, no? Not really,” he fumbles, ever so eloquent. 

“That’s a whole lot of likes for a not really.”

“I don’t— I mean— uh…” How does one go about explaining that they’ve literally only interacted for a whole ass week. “His posts are nice.”

“You mean his face is nice.” Imane quirks an eyebrow at him and Lucas rolls his eyes. He doesn’t bother to defend himself, pointedly flipping open his textbook so they can start their work. 

But when he turns back to his laptop, Eliott’s newest post is still up on his screen. He’d clicked it open while waiting for Imane earlier, huffing out a fond sigh at the photo. _Talk to me._  How dare he put some obscure, nonsense caption and still look cool doing it? God, he’s whipped for a boy he’s never even properly met and he’s very much aware of how bad this could turn out for him. He likes the post absently, so used to doing it for the past week that it’s more a reflex by now, closing out of the tab before Imane catches sight of his screen.

He forgets about it for the rest of the day— or _forget_ isn’t exactly the right word. More like he stops himself from checking in every other hour and it gets easier to tamper down the temptation once he’s helping Manon and Daphne set up for their sorority fundraiser. He’s turned off the notifications on his phone after every alert tone from Instagram has sent him panicking for no reason other than he’s a complete moron when it comes to Eliott. 

The most infuriating thing about the Eliott situation is that Lucas knows they go to the same university. It’s in the description box for _Polaris_. That had been Eliott’s first year project for film studies. Lucas has seen a glimpse of him multiple times, always surrounded by a group of rowdy boys who look way too intimidating to approach. Not that Lucas would know what to say if he ever grows the balls to go up to him anyway. 

“Can you move the pink ones to the far right, please? The colours have to balance.” 

Lucas moves the cupcakes, allowing Daphne to maintain the illusion that colour arrangement would actually affect the end result. He checks the time on his phone, making sure he has enough spare time to make it to his part time job later. He has no class on Wednesdays and that’s usually when he covers most of his hours but Basile’s moving to a new place tomorrow and that guy needs all the help he can get. 

There’s a small commotion across from them and they all look up to see a large group of girls cheering and clapping about something. 

“Why are they set up _there_?” Daphne exclaims, sounding offended. Lucas turns to Manon for an explanation but she just shakes her head with a tiny smile. 

“They came early too, it’s a good spot. It’s not like we can stop them.” Manon shrugs, placing the last plate of cakes on the table. Their entire area is _covered_ with baked goods. He has to watch his steps so as to not stomp all over some backup muffins. Lucas just hopes the sales make enough of a dent so Daphne doesn’t end the day upset with herself, having spent an insane amount of time preparing for this event.

Lucas looks around their booth and then back up to where the other girls have set up what looks to be an imitation carnival game type of thing. He recognizes them as one of the more popular sororities on campus and immediately understands where Daphne’s stress is coming from. 

Still, he thinks the girls’ cakes are pretty banging, not to mention they’ve gone above and beyond with the decor. They deserve the same amount of attention. 

He gets distracted by another round of loud whoops, and looks over to see six boys crowding around the booth across, with one of them holding a plastic archery set and laughing with his friends when he misses the target. One lanky boy who has practically trademarked that black hoodie and tan jacket combination in Lucas’ eyes. 

“Shit,” he mumbles, sliding behind Daphne’s giant signage so that he’s fully hidden from view. He doesn’t know if Eliott would recognize him just from his photos on Instagram alone but he doesn’t want to risk it. Lucas is too sleep deprived to deal with meeting him in person right now.

Alexia arrives shortly after and the girls get distracted enough with finishing up the finer details that Lucas is fortunately left to his own device. 

But now that he’s just standing there staring at the trees, nothing stops him from fishing his phone out of his pockets to check on the holy app. He squints down at it, pausing when he sees that he’s got a new message. 

 **srodulv  
**So you’re finally gonna talk to me?

Lucas’ breath hitches. Eliott has no business sliding into his inbox like this. He fiddles with his phone for five agonizing minutes, not knowing how to respond. He doesn’t want to take too long, though, because what if Eliott thinks that Lucas is ignoring him?  

 **lucallemant  
**Hm?

It’s the best he can come up with. He clutches his phone to his chest, peeking around the signage to see if Eliott looks at the message. He sees Eliott reaching for the phone in his back pocket, shuffling a little away from the ruckus at the other booth. Lucas can hear the pounding of his own heart getting louder and his hands start to sweat a little— which, what the fuck he didn’t even really _say_ anything, he needs to calm down. 

 **srodulv  
**Oh good you responded  
I was starting to think you’d leave me on read

Lucas twists back into hiding, unable to stop the big dumb smile on his face.  

 **lucallemant  
**Maybe I should’ve

 **srodulv  
**What, why? 

 **lucallemant  
**I don’t even know you

 **srodulv  
**I’m Eliott :)

 **lucallemant  
**Wow ur so funny 

 **srodulv  
**I know  
Comedy is my passion

Lucas snorts a little too loudly, which makes the girls look over at him in question. He shakes his head, pointing at a student wandering close by so they can sell their food and stop bringing attention to him. 

 **lucallemant  
**Haha

He gets an idea then, hesitating only a little before deciding, _fuck it_. It’s a big campus and Lucas has practice with avoiding people if anything goes wrong. 

 **lucallemant  
**Now go back to your game  
The point is to hit the target you know

He crouches down and turns a little, watching Eliott’s head snap up, bright blue eyes surveying the crowd closely.

 **srodulv  
**Okay, stalker  
Where are you?

Lucas waits for Eliott to turn around, searching for Lucas in the wrong direction, before he grabs his bag and kisses the girls on the cheek goodbye.

“You’re leaving us already?” Alexia asks, wrapping up a set of cookies her girlfriend wants reserved. 

“Yeah, picked up a shift this evening. See you later!” He jogs out of the crowded area, taking advantage of the traffic to cover him from Eliott’s view. 

 **lucallemant  
**My friends are selling cakes and stuff across from you  
Lot 3  
You should check it out

 **srodulv  
**Will I see you?

He hops on the bus, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from grinning like a lunatic. 

 **lucallemant  
**Go and find out

 **srodulv  
**Hmmm  
The cakes are good  
But I don’t see you

 **lucallemant  
**Maybe if everything sells out you’ll see me

 **srodulv  
**Okay 

He stares at the response, unsure of what to say next so he lets the conversation go.

And then proceeds to spend his entire shift agonizing over what that _okay_ means. Okay as in _that’s ridiculous, pal, it’s not gonna happen_? Okay as in _I have nothing else to say so let’s end the chat here_? What kind of okay does Eliott use in everyday language? Is it positive? Negative? Neutral?

Lucas spills boiling hot water on his finger and gets sent to the back of the kitchen to get his shit together. 

It isn’t until he’s headed home that Lucas finds out exactly what Eliott means by it.

His laughter comes out breathy, as if punched right out of his lungs. He’s not sure whether he’s laughing at how glaringly out of place the photo is in comparison to Eliott’s usual posts or if it’s the tingle of pleased disbelief at the thought of Eliott wanting to meet him so bad he takes Lucas’ dumb joke seriously. There’s just no way Eliott’s actually doing this for him. No way.

But then he notices that Eliott had tagged him on one of Daphne’s posts. Curiously, Lucas clicks on it, small chuckles turning into full blown laughter when he sees what it is. 

Lucas has to physically stop moving, standing right before his own apartment door as he gapes down at the screen.

No. Fucking. Way.

 **srodulv  
**Thursday, B building at the bridge, 13h

 **lucallemant  
**Holy fuck

 **srodulv  
**So I’ll see you? 

And what’s he supposed to do? Say no?

 **lucallemant  
**Yes

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know what's completely awesome??  
> That some of you guys have already seen these first 2 chapters on Tumblr yet you're still out here giving kudos and commenting like wow buncha mvps
> 
> Thank you so, so much pals, my feelings overfloweth, I really appreciate it  
> Now I'm gonna go attempt to coherently reply to your lovely comments


	3. Chapter 3

“I think it’s about you.”

“… I don’t think so.”

“Lulu, please, the guy’s hardcore indirecting you. There’s a heart and all. Acknowledge the effort.”

“How are you so sure?”

The four of them are huddled around his phone, scrutinizing Eliott’s latest story. Half built furniture lay around in haphazard piles on the floor, two empty pizza boxes shoved in a corner near where a dangerously tilting dining table stands.

“Aren’t you meeting at 13h tomorrow? Would have been exactly 24 hours away at the time he posted that.”

Lucas still thinks the guys are reaching, but he lets it slide. He’s not quite over the whiplash of seeing Eliott’s gorgeous face closely followed by that silly raccoon photo. This man is ridiculous and Lucas can’t wait to tell him that to his face. 

Assuming he’d be able to string proper sentences around Eliott anyway. 

“What’s with the raccoon, though?” Arthur asks, sprawling on the floor as he balances a can of soda on his chest. 

“It’s his spirit animal,” Lucas murmurs, tapping away from the story. Eliott hasn’t posted anything else. “What?” He looks up to three sets of raised eyebrows. “He mentioned it in a live once!”

“Okay, I see, so you’re really the creep in this scenario.”

His eyes roll up to the ceiling, “I am _not_.”

“But for real though, how do we know this guy isn’t a fuck boy?” The question comes from Basile, giving Lucas pause. He spares Basile the stinkiest side eye he can manage, one foot shooting out to kick at the boy’s leg. “Ow! I’m just looking out for you.”

“This, coming from you?” 

“Hey now, I’ve learned from my mistakes.” Basile fixes the glasses sliding off his face — reading glasses that he likes to wear because he thinks they make him look _smart_ — and slaps Lucas’ offending foot away. “I’m a whole new person from who I was yesterday.”

“Whatever. Besides, Yann’s coming with me tomorrow,” Lucas says, gazing up at his best friend with a pleading smile. “Just to walk with me to the building, right?“ 

“I am?” 

Yes, or Lucas would die from nerves before they even make eye contact and Eliott would only find his corpse at the bridge. Nobody needs that sort of tragedy right now. “Please?” He musters up the most pitiful puppy eyes he’s capable of.

Yann sighs, “I guess I am.”

“Can I come?” Arthur sits up, almost knocking his drink over in the process.

“No.”

“Why not? I wanna make sure he’s not a creep too!”

“Yann’s got it covered.” 

“This isn’t fair, Lulu.”

“I wanna come too!” That one’s from Basile.

Lucas snorts, “Nope.”

He pulls Instagram back up because he lacks control over his own actions, as per previously established. But instead of scrolling through the feed, he snaps a photo of the lone box of pizza in arm’s reach of their wonky circle. 

They sit around on the floor arguing on Instagram despite being next to each other, last slice of pizza remaining untouched. 

But Lucas promptly abandons the post when he sees a new private message pop up.

 **srodulv  
**What are you wearing?

“Oh my fucking god,” he says before he can stop himself. The rest of the gang perks up, throwing increasingly ludicrous questions at him all at once. “Wait, shut up, shut up.” He waves his arms at them, playfully shoving Arthur off when the other boy tries for a glimpse at his screen.

“Is it Eliott?” Yann asks, obviously trying to be the level headed one of the four.

“Yeah,” he manages to squeak out, thoroughly distracted. 

 **srodulv  
**Tomorrow I mean :)

 **lucallemant  
**Stop that

 **srodulv  
**What? I didn’t do anything

 **lucallemant  
**I swear to god  
Why do you wanna know

 **srodulv  
**So I can see you from afar and sneak up on you

 **lucallemant  
**??

 **srodulv  
**It’ll be cute

 **lucallemant  
**lol stop that 

 **srodulv  
**What if I can’t find you?

 **lucallemant  
**Then I’ll find you  
I can sneak up on you instead  
Cause I know exactly what you’re wearing

 **srodulv  
**Why?   
Cause you’ll be stalking me again?

 **lucallemant  
**No  
Cause you wear the same thing everyday

 **srodulv  
**I do not

 **lucallemant  
**Yes you do 

 **srodulv  
**I don’t!  
It’s just my jacket

 **lucallemant  
**Okay

 **srodulv  
**What okay?

 **lucallemant  
**Okay :)

 **srodulv  
**Lucas

 **lucallemant  
**:)

He looks up after noticing the silence around him, finding Yann’s dead stare, Basile’s open mouthed one, and Arthur’s— well, Arthur’s got the last piece of pizza stuffed in his mouth. “What?”

“He was smiling at his phone.” Basile turns to Yann as if Lucas isn’t sitting right there. 

“Yeah,” Yann agrees. “Did you see the way he just ignored us? Not cool.”

“Bro code broken.”

Lucas rolls his eyes so hard he’s momentarily worried it’d get stuck like that forever. 

 **srodulv  
**So you see me enough to judge my fashion huh

 **lucallemant  
**How’d you manage to turn this around in your favour

 **srodulv  
**It’s an acquired skill 

 **lucallemant  
**Impressive 

 **srodulv  
**So? 

 **lucallemant  
**So what?

 **srodulv  
**I’m not getting an answer am I?

 **lucallemant  
**Smart man

His phone rings with a different tone just as he hits send, bringing Lucas out of his lovestruck cheesing quite abruptly. The name flashing on the screen has him up on his feet in a nanosecond, leaving the guys crawling around picking on Arthur for consuming their current source of entertainment.

“Where you goin’?” Arthur calls out as Lucas moves away. 

“Gotta take this.” He gestures at his phone then points to the balcony where he’s headed. “Hey, Marie, what’s up?” 

“Afternoon, Lucas. How are you?”

“Good, good. Is everything alright?”

“Yes! Your mother’s actually the one who asked me to call. She just can’t find her phone,” Marie chuckles from the other line. “But she wants to ask if you have any free time at all today? We’re due for a little fresh air ourselves.”

“Okay, what time?”

“We’re thinking of heading out in an hour? We can meet you at the bus stop one block off the clinic.” 

“Yeah, sure. That sounds good.”

“Okay, I’ll bring Champ.”

“Yes!” He jumps a little, running back to where the guys are still spread out on the floor.

Marie laughs, “I see who you’re most excited to meet.”

“Don’t tell mama.” He laughs along, mumbling his goodbyes before hanging up. “Hey, morons, I gotta go.”

“But we haven’t built my bed yet!” Basile sits up, looking genuinely disappointed. 

“Sleep on the floor.” Lucas smiles to soften his words, moving closer to clap their hands together. “Sorry guys, mama wants to hang out.” 

When Lucas gets to Yann, the other boy stands with him. “I’m going with Lucas, see you guys.”

“Oh okay.” Basile turns to Arthur then. “You’re staying right?” To which Arthur agrees only if they buy another box of pizza.

“You don’t have to,” Lucas says softly when they get to the door. 

“Nah, let’s go. I haven’t come with you to visit in a while.” Yann smiles down at him, giving him a gentle pat on the back. God, he loves this guy. 

 

* * *

 

One o’clock in the morning finds Lucas cramming for an essay he’s completely forgotten is due the next day. Well, _today_ now actually. This is why he has a problem with professors assigning things months in advance— he puts it off so much so that the excessively early due date warning causes more harm than good. 

He’s right about to pull his hair out in frustration after writing and deleting and _rewriting_ the same fucking paragraph for the fifth time when his phone, left open to review the notes Imane had sent him, brightens slightly to alert him with a message from Eliott. 

 **srodulv  
**Can I ask you something?

Lucas briefly entertains the notion of telling him to go the fuck to sleep but that would be very hypocritical of him. 

 **lucallemant  
**Yeah

 **srodulv  
**I mean, you don’t have to answer  
If you don’t want to

 **lucallemant  
**Okay  
What is it?

He turns away from his laptop, sliding off his desk chair and onto the floor. Eliott’s taking a while to answer, which allows Lucas’ bitch of a brain to formulate unpleasant thoughts as to where this conversation’s going. 

Too antsy now to stay on the floor, he drags himself up and towards the bed, wrapping himself completely in the blankets as he waits it out. By the time Eliott actually sends something, Lucas’s already shivering from the nerves. 

 **srodulv  
**The guy you were with today  
The one you post about a lot  
Who is he?

Lucas exhales a huge breath. And then he reads the messages again.

Rereads them over and over.

“Shut the fuck up,” he whispers to himself. “No,” he continues, letting out a loud laugh before slapping a hand over his mouth, conscious of Yann sleeping next door. 

Which. Yann. Is Eliott—

He throws his phone to the foot of the bed, needing to bury his entire self in the blankets to suppress a scream. Lucas allows himself a little flail. Just a tiny bit, the movement’s barely even visible. An arm shoots out from the blanket lump a minute later, feeling around for the discarded phone before his head pops back out as well. He must have taken too long answer because Eliott types up another message. 

 **srodulv  
**You really don’t have to tell me, it’s fine

 **lucallemant  
**Eliott   
That’s my best friend 

He bites his bottom lip, adding a cheeky afterthought. 

 **lucallemant  
**Don’t worry 

 **srodulv  
**Ah, okay  
Now I won’t 

 **lucallemant  
**You were worried?

 **srodulv  
**Yes

 _Fuck_ , Lucas thinks, his heart’s going to burst out of his chest at this point.

 **lucallemant  
**Stop that

 **srodulv  
**What?  
Who gets a dog and goes on champagne dates with their best friend? 

 **lucallemant  
**Lol Champagne is the dog  
That’s her name

 **srodulv  
**OH

 **lucallemant  
**Yup and we were with my mom and her friend too so

 **srodulv  
**Oh

 **lucallemant  
**You all good now?

 **srodulv  
**:)

 **lucallemant  
**Weirdo

 **srodulv  
**This weirdo can’t wait til 13h  

 **lucallemant  
**Haha go to sleep Eliott 

 **srodulv  
**You too, Lucas  
Sweet dreams

Lucas flops down on the bed, face first. Feelings are so exhausting.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm but a simple soul  
> Tryina recover from Jeudi 1h48  
> Smh
> 
> Thanks for reading!!


	4. Chapter 4

Lucas puts a hand over his mouth, doing a piss poor job of pretending that he isn’t laughing and making goo goo eyes at the screen. Seated across from him, Daphne notices, but he hardly cares at this point. In a surprising turn of events, she’s the last of his friends to hold back from asking anything— Daphne’s practically a walking fuse about to blow and Lucas would rather it happen sooner than later.

“So!” Ah, there it is. “I’ve been meaning to ask.” 

He blinks away from his laptop, smiling at her as she works out what she wants to say. Daphne’s always so entertaining to watch whenever she gets excited over something. And she gets excited about a lot of things. So basically it’s just entertainment all around. 

“When were you gonna tell me that you’re friends with Eliott Demaury?” She fires it off so fast, Lucas wouldn’t have understood if he hadn’t already been expecting it. 

“It’s a recent thing.” He shrugs, trying for a discreet glance at the time. The closer it gets to 13h, the worse his jitters get, the harder it is to concentrate on anything else. “We just follow each other on Instagram.” He has to meet Yann outside in five minutes so they can make it to the B building a little earlier. Lucas needs some time to psych himself up. 

“I see that. I didn’t know you’re like… the tagging kind of mutuals.”

“The… tagging kind?”

“There are levels of social media friendship!” Daphne sits up straighter, eyes widened like she can’t believe Lucas doesn’t know about this. “Some just follow each other, occasionally like posts,” she pauses, staring at him for a bit before, “you and him like everything from each other.”

He sputters, feeling called out. “And so?”

“ _And_ he tagged you in my post the other day, why?”

“I don’t… know?” What’s he supposed to say to that? It’s too long of a story and he doesn’t feel like telling it. Not to mention he doesn’t have _time_ to tell it.

“Lucas, he doesn’t even follow me back. Why did he care about the fundraiser? You know what, he doesn’t really follow _anyone_ back— how did you do it?” 

He feels a tiny bit overwhelmed with the barrage of questions so seeing Yann approaching close through the window behind her head is a god sent excuse to leave. “I really don’t know, Daphy, but I gotta go okay? Message me if you have trouble in anything else on the worksheet.”

“Oh, okay. Later!” 

“Good to go?” Yann peers down at him once outside and Lucas can only guess how nervous he must look when Yann raises both eyebrows in amusement. “Hey, think of it this way. It’s just a guy okay? Just a guy, Lucas.”

Lucas responds with a garbled noise that barely sounds human. Eliott isn’t _just_ anything. “Sure.” 

“Don’t pass out now, I wouldn’t know how to explain that to him.”

“Shut up.”

Just a guy. 

 

* * *

  

There are quite a lot of students milling around the bridge, which does nothing to alleviate Lucas’ anxiousness. They walk close to the side, sticking by the lockers at Lucas’ prompting— he knows it doesn’t help him much. Lucas alone with his stature can probably sneak around, yes, but once Eliott spots the giant tree that is his best friend, it’s over for them. 

Funnily enough, it’s Lucas who sees Eliott first. 

“He’s there.” He stops Yann with a hand on his arm, half hiding behind him as he watches Eliott in all his beautiful, smiling glory. He’s surrounded by a group of people, as always. But this time it’s not his usual crew, so Lucas thinks it should feel less intimidating if he walks over to approach Eliott later when it hits 13h exact. 

He turns around, leaning his back against Yann’s. 

“So, do I stay here until you’re done giving yourself a pep talk or?”

“Yes, please.” 

There’s a screenshot on his phone with Eliott’s _Thursday, B building at the bridge_ , _13h_ and he pulls it up, triple checking that he’s got the time right. Not that he really needs the confirmation, he’s memorized the message within the first minute of receiving it, but having the written proof makes him feel better.

Lucas number twenty has already run off, buying some McDonalds to soothe himself after being an utter failure. Lucas number fifteen is already talking to Eliott number fifteen, waiting until 13h be damned. 

Lucas number one is rooted to his spot, eyes remaining on the ground as he fiddles with the straps on his bag. God, okay, time’s moving way too fucking slow. He won’t look _that_ much more eager if he goes now right? Seven minutes earlier doesn’t make a difference, really. It’s practically nothing, it can’t even be truly recognized as being _too_ early—

Yann’s clearing his throat. 

There’s a shadow forming over Lucas.

“Hi,” a sweet, sweet voice greets him from above and Lucas might have jumped a little, lifting his head so fast he’s surprised his vision doesn’t tilt sideways. 

“Hello.” He hopes he speaks loud enough to reach Eliott, but that’s about all the vocabulary his brain supplies him with at the moment so it’s not like it matters. The sturdy support of Yann behind him disappears and Lucas barely resists the urge grab him back. Eliott’s smile is knee buckling but remembering the early morning conversation they had has him keeping his hands to himself. 

“Whatever happened to sneaking up on me, hm?” Eliott asks, smile warm, eyes warm, everything about him is so warm. 

Lucas takes too much time just looking at him, letting the silence go on for so long it should have gotten awkward but, through sheer force of will maybe, they manage to not make it so. A slow smile pulls at the corner of his lips, feeling a little bit of the tension lift when Eliott quirks an eyebrow, still waiting for an answer. “I didn’t…” His eyes wander off Eliott’s face, scrambling for something to say. “…recognize you. You’re wearing a different jacket.”

Eliott snorts, looking to the ceiling and then back down at Lucas. When their eyes meet, it sets off his laughter— actually turning around to lean on his knees type of laughter. The white-knuckled grip Eliott had on his bag strap loosens and he has to readjust the bag over his shoulder when it threatens to fall off.

Lucas watches him and his heart does a thing.

They stand there staring at each other even after their laughter tapers off into fond smiles. Eliott tilts his head, breathing out a final chuckle. 

“What?” Lucas asks, almost a whisper. From his peripheral view, he knows people have their eyes on them, a side effect of Eliott’s fame, perhaps. But he doesn’t pay them any mind.

“Nothing,” Eliott says, passing a hand over his lips before directing his gaze to the floor. “You just…” He shakes his head, starting to walk backwards as he mumbles something Lucas doesn’t catch. 

“What?” Lucas asks again, this time louder to cover the distance. 

“Nothing.” Eliott keeps on walking. “You coming?”

That’s a stupid question, what else is he supposed to do?

“Where are we going?” 

Eliott shrugs, “Wherever. You hungry?” 

“Sure.” 

His phone pings with a multitude of alerts and he thinks he knows exactly which group chat those are coming from. Putting his phone on silent is the best course of action to take at this point. He’ll deal with all the explaining later. 

He checks on Eliott’s post, rolling his eyes when he sees the response. “Stop.”

Eliott laughs that lovely laugh of his. Lucas just wants to bottle the sound up and keep it for himself forever.

“What time do you finish work?” 

They unfortunately had to cut their afternoon short when Lucas got called in to cover for an emergency shift at the cafe. Eliott swears it’s fine but Lucas still feels guilty about it, and more than a little disappointed. 

“Around 22h.”

“That late?”

“It’s not too bad.”

Eliott hums, hands shoved deep in his jacket pockets. “Can I wait for you?”

“Huh?” They stop walking once they’re within a few steps from the cafe.

“The original plan was to walk you home after this,” Eliott huffs out. “But now that’s been thwarted.”

“So you’re making plans by yourself, huh?” Lucas knows he’s got another dumb smile on his face but he can’t be bothered to hide it. “I’m not gonna let you wait here for 5 hours, Eliott.” 

“What if I want to?” 

Lucas bites his lip, looking up at the other boy’s stupid, gorgeous face. “Stop that,” he says softly. 

“You know, you keep telling me to stop,” Eliott steps closer, Lucas has to tip his head against the wall behind him to maintain eye contact. “I’m gonna start thinking you don’t like me if you’re not careful.” 

“Oh sorry, didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

“You don’t sound very sorry.”

“No, I am, I’ll make up for it.” 

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhm.” Lucas digs around in his pockets. 

“How?” Eliott takes another step forward, tilting his head in that infuriatingly endearing way he does. Lucas keeps his mind off the fact that their toes are practically touching, doesn’t think about the air around him starting to smell like Eliott’s cologne with how close they’re standing. 

He whips out the two chocolate bars from his pockets and places them in between their faces. “Apology candy. They’re really good.”

Lucas can pinpoint the exact moment Eliott’s brain short-circuits and he can’t help the little laugh that escapes him at the thought of _himself_  being capable of that effect.

“Fuck,” Eliott mumbles, stepping back with a laugh of his own. He grabs the chocolate bars from Lucas’ hand, shaking his head as he looks at them. “Okay,” he sighs. “I’ll forgive you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, but only if you promise to see me again.”

That’s easy. “Okay.”

Eliott grins, eyes disappearing into half moon slits. “Okay?”

“Okay.” And then they stand there without moving. Lucas throws his head to the side, laughing at how ridiculous they’re acting. “Go _home_ , Eliott.” He’s going to be late for work at the rate they’re going.

Eliott throws his hands up in surrender. “Message me when you get home, yeah?”

“Okay.”

“Bye, little hedgehog.” Eliott jogs away from Lucas’ half-hearted kick.

“Bye, weirdo,” he calls out and Eliott turns around to give him a dorky salut. 

Lucas’ coworkers are stunned when he doesn’t make a single grumpy comment for the entirety of his shift. 

 

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "It wiLL bE pOsTed toNigHt" I say on Tumblr
> 
> Sorry for the delay HAHA BUT HERE IT IS if you think that some of the photos look different from Tumblr it's cause it is (the other post format ends up looking weird and small on here so)


	5. Chapter 5

Lucas smiles to himself as he browses through Eliott’s Instagram story, melting at the sight of the boy holding different puppies at each frame. Where does Eliott find so many dogs to cuddle anyway? Lucas can’t even guess the answer, all he knows is that the photos _need_ to keep coming. He’s just settled down on the bulky armchair they’ve placed in the corner of their “break room” (it’s a small empty space at the back of the kitchen) when he reaches the end of it, almost choking on the water he’s just drank at the last photo. 

He recognizes that building behind Eliott. He’s very familiar with it, in fact, because it’s the _same building_ he sees every time he looks longingly out the window when a shift goes particularly south. 

Jumping off the armchair, he hurries to get to the front, narrowly missing stubbing his toe on the stove in his rush. 

And just as predicted, Eliott leans against the wall by the entrance, eye-catching even in a simple hoodie and that damn jacket of his. Lucas slowly approaches, wary of the stares that are already trained on Eliott. Mr. Instagram Famous doesn’t seem bothered by it, only grinning at Lucas as he flips his phone back and forth between his hands.

“What are you doing here?” 

Eliott shrugs. “Picking you up.”

He doesn’t finish for another hour. “And how’d you know I’d be here?”

“Yann told me.” 

“Oh, so you guys talk now?” 

“Well, I’ve gotta get on his good side.” 

“Why?” 

Eliott pushes off the wall, lifting his eyebrows as he teases, “You know why.”

Lucas doesn’t let himself believe that quite yet. “What if I told you I don’t get off work for another hour?”

“Then I’ll wait. If you’ll let me this time?” 

His brain function staggers, grasping for a witty response. “It’s not 5 hours, I guess.” Close enough.

“Why thank you, you’re so generous.” 

Lucas turns around to head back, having used up his 15 minute break watching Eliott’s story and now talking to him. Eliott’s a real hazard to his much wanted alone time. “You could’ve just messaged me, you know.” 

“Hm?”

“What if I didn’t check your story when you came?”

“Nah, I knew you’d be watching.” He sounds so sure of himself and Lucas kind of wants to slap him but at the same time, the whole confident act is _working_ for him god damn it. Lucas flips him off but that only serves to widen Eliott’s shit eating grin. 

His coworkers stare him down as he takes his place at the second cash and Lucas does his best to avoid their eyes, unwilling to spill anything about the gorgeous boy waiting for him by the window stool. He only gets away with it due to how busy Saturdays tend to be, allowing them zero free time to ask him the questions he knows they’re _dying_ to throw at him.

He can still feel their stares on his back when he leaves the cafe with Eliott.

“Where are we going?” He asks, following Eliott to the bus stop. 

“You’ll see.” It doesn’t even occur for Lucas to question it. 

Eliott’s taken him to the doggy daycare he volunteers at, stating that he’d been there the entire morning and had only stopped by the cafe specifically to get Lucas. 

“I wanted another date,” the other boy claims, hands wrapped around a tiny Pomeranian that looks strikingly like Champagne.

“This isn’t a date,” Lucas retorts, taking the Pomeranian off his hands. 

Eliott chuckles. “Of course it is.” 

Lucas kisses the dog on the nose, hoping with his entire being that the warmth on his cheeks isn’t as visible as it feels. “What’s this one’s name?”

“That’s Bee.” 

Lucas laughs down at his phone, chancing a glance at Eliott who’s also smiling down at his own screen, free hand petting absently at a poodle’s back. 

His staring gets interrupted by multiple pings from his phone and his eyes narrow in confusion, recognizing the Instagram handles that follow him all at the same time.

“Why are your friends following me?”

As if electrocuted, Eliott jumps out of the couch and lunges for Lucas’ phone, but Lucas was fast enough to dodge him, turning around so he can fold over the device like a protective cocoon. 

“They’re a bunch of dumbasses, ignore them.” 

“What? No.”

“Why not?” 

"They sound fun.”

“You’re choosing them over me?”

“Maybe.”

“Here you go again, hurting my feelings like this,” Eliott sighs melodramatically.

Eliott has his arms around Lucas now from how he’s been trying to reach over him for the phone. Lucas looks up and turns until he can clearly see Eliott when he says, "Sorry.“

"Got some more of those apology candies?”

“I don’t have any left.”

“So how are you gonna apologize now?" 

The way he says it is electrifying, his voice freezing Lucas on the spot– not that Eliott has to do much for that to happen. Lucas belatedly realizes that Eliott’s beginning to lean down and, panic simmering in his stomach, Lucas turns away, forcing himself to face forward again. His cheeks feel like they’re in _flames_ and his heart is pounding so loud it’s a wonder Eliott doesn’t hear it. 

"I’ll apologize by sincerely saying sorry,” he mumbles, sounding shaky even to his own ears. Eliott’s hands tighten around him and Lucas gasps, acutely aware of how goddamn  _nervous_ he suddenly feels. Fuck, Eliott isn’t saying anything but Lucas can feel his breath above the nape of his neck. What is _going on here_? Eliott places large hands on his waist and spins him around so that they’re facing each other and _fuck_  if that isn’t the _hottest_ thing to ever–

Someone knocks on the door, the noise jarring despite its softness. "Eliott? Gerard’s here for Bee." 

They stand there as if suspended in time, blinking at each other. It takes a minute for the both of them to process the interruption. 

"One second.” Eliott looks down at him, thumbs running restlessly over the material of Lucas’ shirt. He huffs out a sigh and ruffles Lucas’ hair before scooping up a wiggling Bee in his arms on his way out of the room.

Lucas slumps down on the couch, immediately wrapping his arms around the giant German Shepherd that comes sniffing around his lap. He buries his face in the dog’s soft fur as he lets out a drawn out groan. Eliott’s going to be the death of him. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At this time next week, Lucas will have his best friend's support and our boys will have already reunited  
> HANG IN THERE MECS 
> 
> And if anyone's wondering, you can find me on Tumblr [here](https://choupichoups.tumblr.com), thanks for reading as always!


	6. Chapter 6

He hasn’t heard from Eliott since Sunday. 

The professor’s monotone drawling fades out to the background as Lucas flips between the apps on his phone– a foolish attempt to keep himself from opening up the one he actually wants to check on.

Eliott hasn’t posted anything since the Saturday they were together.

He contemplates sending a message but he can’t think of a good conversation starter. Saying a simple _hello_ is super lame. Eliott always starts their chats with a clever line. How does he come up with those, anyway? Lucas would really appreciate a little insight right now. 

Lucas barely notices his classmates leaving the room and he scrambles to follow along, pocketing his phone so he’d stop staring at it already. 

He’s only taken a couple of steps outside when a vaguely familiar boy with shaven head almost rams right into him. 

“Shit, sorry!” Lucas steps aside at the last minute and the other boy’s arms do a hilarious windmill to keep balance. Neither of them end up on the floor so that’s awesome.

“Sorry!” The boy shouts back, looking at Lucas with wide eyes and a half formed grin. Lucas flinches, trying to hide the double take he almost does. This guy has the brightest green eyes a stark contrast to his dark skin and a bone structure that can cut glass. If he isn’t so ass over head infatuated with Eliott, his brain would probably register just how beautiful this person is. “Lucas?”

It takes a bit for him to realize that it’s _weird_ how this person correctly guesses his name. “Uh, why?” 

“Idris!” The boy – Idris? Instagram Idris? – says, enthusiasm evident in his voice. “I’m Idris, I mean. Eliott sent me.” 

“Eliott… sent you?” Lucas keeps walking, not wanting to block the way to the classroom. Idris keeps up beside him. “But where is he?” 

Idris hands him a cup of hot chocolate– it’s the one Lucas gets once a month to reward himself for not keeling over in stress. 

“He’s holed up in the library,” Idris says while Lucas’s still blinking down at the cup in his hands. “We have a project due very soon, me and him. We have to finish the storyboard.” 

Okay, it’s been two days though. Lucas just hopes they’re getting enough rest. He’s seen a lot of the other film students walking from building to building like dried up zombies. 

Idris keeps going before Lucas gets a word in. “His phone’s on airplane mode.” Lucas nods, watching Idris rub a hand over the top of his head. “Mine too, we do this thing. So we only focus on one thing at a time, you know.” 

Lucas starts to smile as Idris looks at him, slightly wide-eyed. He has a feeling this guy’s been running on pure caffeine since the weekend. “Okay.”

“My point is, he’s not ignoring you.” 

“I didn’t think so.” 

“Good. God, I told him he’s overreacting.” 

Lucas laughs, holding the hot chocolate to his chest. “He’s doing okay?”

“Yeah,” Idris scoffs, waving a dismissive hand. “He forgot to tell you about the whole project thing before, you know, shutting the world out so he’s been freaking out about it.” 

“Why?”

“He thinks you’d forget about him.”

“What?” Lucas laughs louder. “That’s dumb.”

“Yeah, well.” Idris shrugs, his laughter coming out in choppy chuckles. “Anyway, I’ve gotta get back to work, nice to meet you!” 

“You too.” Lucas takes a step backward, smiling to himself as he sips at the hot chocolate. From Eliott. How did Eliott know about his favourite campus drink? “Idris!” He calls out before the other boy is completely out of sight.

Idris turns, raising an eyebrow.

“Good luck with the project! And tell him me forgetting him is the last thing he has to worry about.” He says in a rush, half of him hoping Idris doesn’t hear him but the other half hoping the opposite as he doesn’t think he can repeat that without combusting.

Idris opens his mouth as if to say something but then he settles for a pout, both hands shooting up to clutch at his chest. “ _Fuck_ , you really are adorable.” 

Lucas turns away and brisk walks towards the next building. 

Yann drops down beside him in the middle of Lucas doing his homework. He can feel Yann staring at him, but, infuriating best friend that he is, Yann doesn’t say anything as he does it. 

“What?” Lucas breaks the silence, putting his pen down.

“What?” Yann returns, opting for the most innocent of tones. It doesn’t work.

“Spill it.” 

“Nothing, man.” Yann looks down at the phone sitting innocently between them. “Just, you know, wondering if I should round up the guys to properly meet Eliott.”

That gets Lucas’ attention. “Why?”

Yann’s left eye twitches the slightest bit. “You can’t tell me there’s nothing between you two.”

“Well, there’s a thing.” Lucas shuts his textbook, losing any sort of motivation he had going earlier. “But there’s no _thing_.”

“Uh, okay?” 

“He’s not my man or anything.”

“Why not?” Yann asks, incredulous like it’s easy. Or maybe for him it really is that easy.

“I don’t know, we haven’t really talked about it?” 

He opens up Instagram to a new private message, eyes narrowing when he sees the username.

 **emir.yous**  
hey

 **lucallemant**  
hi

 **emir.yous**  
I heard you’re good at chem??

 **lucallemant**  
I guess 

 **emir.yous**  
can you help me with somethin  
I think my brain’s melting

 **lucallemant**  
ok, imane’s better than me though  
you can ask Abe to ask her?

 **emir.yous**  
no  
she’ll think I’m stupid

 **lucallemant**  
lol 

“Lucas, his friends are messaging you.” Yann deadpans, obviously having read the conversation over Lucas’ shoulder because fuck manners apparently. “I think that’s a good indication of where he wants it to go.” 

“I don’t– I don’t know, Yann. What if– I don’t know him that well.”

“Yet.”

“But what if I… I don’t wanna get _too_ attached and then for it to blow up in my face.” Lucas fidgets with his pen, twirling it restlessly between all fingers until Yann stills him with a gentle touch. 

“Lucas, not everyone will be like that.”

“How do you know?” 

“You’ve got to give people a chance to prove you wrong.”

“No one’s done it yet.” 

His phone pings again, but this time it’s from a different person. Yann looks down at it and Lucas can see the hint of a smile fighting to lift his expression. “I don’t think you’re the one who needs to worry about getting attached.” 

 **abebkhellal**  
what are those chocolates you gave him?  
he won’t even let me take a bite 

 **lucallemant**  
I can get you some if you want

 **abebkhellal**  
bro I’d love that   
but I also love my life  
and eliott will probably murder me in cold blood if you gave me the same chocolates you gave him

 **lucallemant**  
lol I’m sorry 

 **abebkhellal**  
just show me where you get them  
I’ll buy some myself

 **lucallemant**  
okay sure

Yann’s smiling when Lucas looks back up at him. “He talks about you with his friends.” 

“I’m pretty sure they’re just cornering me into meeting them.” Lucas chuckles, sliding his phone inside his hoodie pockets. “And I talk about him with you guys too, it’s no big deal.” 

“Are you kidding me? You never talked about Ra–”

“Anyway, what are we doing? Is this a slumber party now?”

Yann rolls his eyes. “Shut up.”

“Are we exchanging our deepest, darkest secrets?”

“That’s not how it goes.”

“Oh, so you’re the master of slumber parties now?”

“Yeah,” Yann shuffles lazily towards the backpack he’d thrown on the ground earlier. “Only slumber party invitees get to play this.” He pulls out the new game he’s just bought while skipping class in the morning, waving it around with a flourish as Lucas gapes up at it.

“No way, that’s so expensive.”

“Yeah, I saved up.”

“Nerd.”

“Then don’t play it.”

“No, let me!”

“Slumber party people only!”

“There are _two_ of us, _I’m_ the one making this a party!”

“No, you’re not even wearing pyjamas!” 

 

* * *

 

Lucas sleepily watches the television screen, fingers barely moving over the controls as he lets the final boss crush his character for the nth time. Beside him, Yann’s already passed out on the couch. 

He stretches out with a groan as quiet as he can manage, reaching over Yann to grab the remote and shut the screen off. He’s about to head to bed when his hands smack against the phone still in his pockets, and his fingers automatically open up Instagram before his brain even registers the movement.

 **srodulv**  
you’re welcome

Lucas smiles, not exactly hating the flutter in his stomach at seeing Eliott back in his messages. 

 **lucallemant**  
no longer on the plane?

 **srodulv**  
haha  
I’ve landed

 **lucallemant  
**welcome back  
how did the assignment go?

 **srodulv**  
it was okay

 **lucallemant**  
okay that’s good 

 **srodulv**  
can I see you again?

 **lucallemant**  
I mean, it’s a bit late 

 **srodulv**  
what are you talking about?  
3 in the morning is the best time to go out and live our lives

 **lucallemant**  
lol stop that

 **srodulv**  
careful, you might hurt my feelings again

 **lucallemant**  
so?

 **srodulv**  
so you’re running out of ways to apologize :)

 **lucallemant**  
lol 

 **srodulv**  
are you free on Thursday?

 **lucallemant**  
what’s with you and Thursdays?

 **srodulv**  
favourite day of the week 

 **lucallemant**  
lol weirdo

 **srodulv**  
:) so?

 **lucallemant**  
okay 

 **srodulv**  
okay, I’ll wait for you outside your class

 **lucallemant**  
how do you know where that is?

 **srodulv**  
:)

 **lucallemant**  
stalker

 **srodulv**  
says the original stalker

 **lucallemant**  
lol go to sleep eliott

 **srodulv**  
good night ❤️

Lucas lays awake for a while after, tracking the cracks in the ceiling as his mind replays Yann’s words. _You have to give people a chance to prove you wrong_. He’s tried so many times, and every failure does nothing but strengthen the walls he’s trying so hard to scratch past. 

But maybe. 

Maybe this time.

Maybe.

 **lucallemant**  
good night  
❤️

Maybe Eliott deserves that chance. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do we really believe Axel "happy birthday David" Auriant when he says we won't like Eliott's scene in this episode? idk man the boy is SKETCH
> 
> Anyway, crazy theories aside, we've been blessed by 2 good clips to start the ep with so!! 
> 
> Thanks for reading ♥


	7. Chapter 7

_He looks tired_ , is what Lucas first thinks, watching Eliott’s story over and over. He’s memorized Eliott’s words by now, talking about the new project he’s working on with Idris, explaining why he’s been missing for four days. It feels good to see him again, especially when Eliott had gone radio silent after their early morning conversation on Wednesday. But maybe it’d be better if Eliott just takes a nap for the day.

 **lucallemant  
**Are you ok? 

 **srodulv  
**Yes, why?

 **lucallemant  
**Did you get some sleep?

 **srodulv  
**Is my little hedgehog worried about me? 

 **lucallemant  
**Yeah

 **srodulv  
**Fuck   
Ok, yes, I’m a bit tired from staying up so much but I’m really ok  
Please don’t cancel our date

 **lucallemant  
**What date

 **srodulv  
**:(  
I made plans and everything

Lucas melts at that, fingers hovering over the phone screen. How dare Eliott be so cute? Lucas is out here just trying to look out for his well-being but he’s quickly learning that saying no to Eliott is an impossible feat. _He’s made plans and everything_.

 **lucallemant  
**Well I guess if there’s already a plan…  
Okay :)  
I’ll see you later

 **srodulv  
**Can’t wait

When Lucas gets out of class, Eliott’s waiting for him outside, just like he said he would be. He’s sitting on the ground by the walls, sipping on an iced coffee with one hand free to doodle all over the notebook on his lap. Lucas takes a moment to just look at him. 

Other people are looking too, probably wondering what Eliott’s doing sitting on the floor at the science faculty. 

“Hey,” he says once he’s covered the distance between them. Eliott looks up, signature grin on the ready. “Did you wait long?” 

Eliott makes a vague noise, waving his drink around. “Oh!” He picks up the cup from his other side, handing Lucas _another one_ of his overpriced guilty pleasure hot chocolate. “For you.”

“Thank you,” Lucas says, begging his brain to come up with something else to say. The last thing he wants to do is enter some kind of speechless stupor now that he’s got Eliott in front of him. “How did you know about this?”

“About what?” Eliott gets up, dusting his pants off as he picks up his discarded backpack. 

“Hot chocolate.” 

“Ah,” he trails off, eyes shifting from Lucas and down to the drink in his hand. “I have my own sources.” 

“You’re really coming for my stalker title, are you?”

“Nah, you still have it, Mr. I watch every Instagram story of yours.” 

Lucas rolls his eyes, jogging a little to keep up with Eliott’s fast pace. “If I posted those as much as you did, you’d be watching mine too.” 

Eliott laughs, slowing his steps considerably. “Confident, are we?”

“Very.” Lucas takes a careful sip of his drink– it’s pleasantly warm but no longer hot. Eliott’s been sitting there for a while then. “Where are you taking me, stalker?” 

The sun forms a golden glow around Eliott’s tousled hair, highlighting a mirage of colours in the strands. Lucas _just_ manages to suppress a smitten sigh when Eliott smiles down at him– he really hated that one poetry elective he’d taken in high school but he’d have no problem writing sonnets about Eliott if you ask him to. 

“Dinner and a movie.”

“Dinner and a movie?”

“Yes, a classic.” 

“When you said dinner and a movie, I thought the movie part would be fancier.” Lucas walks around the living room, absently prodding at the many books displayed on the shelves. 

“Why fancy?”

“Aren’t you supposed to impress me?”

“You’re already impressed.”

Lucas laughs, turning around to join Eliott by the television because, _of course_ , he wants to watch something out of his film collection rather than pick out a movie from Netflix like every other normal person. “Confident, are we?” 

“I’ve got you in my place right now, don’t I?” Eliott says, smile crooked and unfairly attractive in the dim light. Lucas doesn’t have anything to say to that. 

“Okay, well.” He chuckles under his breath– he really should be used to Eliott by now so why is he _still_ so goddamn nervous? “What kind of movies do you like?” 

“Romance.”

“Romance,” Lucas repeats, raising an eyebrow. How very _fitting_ of Eliott to have _romance_ as his favourite genre. “Really?” He browses through the pile on the floor and randomly picks out the first thing that catches his eye. “Oh my god.”

“What?”

“Don’t tell me _The Notebook_ is your favourite film of all time.” Lucas holds the case up, laughter gaining volume when Eliott takes a little too long to reply. “Fuck!”

“It is _not_.” 

“I don’t believe you.”

“It’s not!” Eliott snatches it off his hands. “The rain scene is iconic and Ryan Gosling was phenomenal in it, but it’s not.”

“So you’re a Ryan Gosling fan.”

“You know, I’m starting to think you’re judging me.” Eliott tucks _The Notebook_ out of sight, searching vigorously through his DVD collection like he knows what he wants to watch now. 

Lucas puts his hands up, smiling. “Tell me more.” 

“He’s got good movies, okay?”

“Sure.”

“Ever seen _La La Land_?” 

“No.” Lucas watches him fondly, taking advantage of the fact that Eliott’s too busy with his rummaging to catch Lucas’ lovestruck gaze.

“You’re killing me. Seen _Crazy, Stupid, Love_?” 

“No.”

“Fuck. Yeah, we’re watching that.” Eliott grabs the title out of his pile before urging Lucas to sit on the couch while he sets up. Lucas sinks down into the cushions, utterly endeared by how excited Eliott seems at the prospect of watching this lame romcom (which he’s probably already seen multiple times) with Lucas. “Get ready to change your mind about romance films.”

“I have nothing against them.”

“Uh huh.”

“I’m just more of a super hero movie kind of person.”

“Of course you are.” Eliott laughs, sitting close to Lucas despite the gigantic space he’d left, having squished himself comfortably against one end of the couch. 

And okay, the movie’s maybe a little funny. It doesn’t bore him like he’s initially expected– though that may be due to Eliott whispering a running commentary close to his ears, forcing Lucas to stay focused at all times so that he doesn’t do anything stupid. Like cuddle up into Eliott’s shoulder or something. 

They get to the scene where Hannah dramatically rushes out into the night to find Jacob in the bar. “Does he always have a rain scene in all his films or what?” He whispers after a moment, watching a startled Jacob lift a soaking wet Hannah in his arms while they kiss. 

“It’s technically not in the rain.”

“Same thing, though. They keep using the same trope.” 

“True.” Eliott shrugs. “It’s all about the romantic ambiance. The sky pouring down, this special person in your arms, you can have that moment over and over and it doesn’t get old. Oh, and Ryan Gosling looks perfect for kissing in the rain.”

Lucas leans his head against the back of the couch, eyes scrunching shut as he laughs. “Bullshit. What does that even mean?” 

“What, you don’t see it?” Eliott’s laughing as well, pointing at the screen. “You know who else looks perfect for kissing in the rain?”

His heart thuds a warning in his chest, Lucas ignores it. “Who?” 

“Me,” Eliott whispers, lifting his eyebrows in a quick movement. “I want my Ryan Gosling moment, Lucas.”

Lucas snorts, backing further into the cushions behind him and hugging one of the pillows close to his chest. “Watch the movie.” 

Eliott’s smiling as he retreats, returning his eyes to the screen. 

At the halfway point, Eliott’s commentary gradually slows to a still and Lucas assumes that Eliott must have gotten too sucked into the movie.

But then he feels a weight landing on his shoulder and he has to consciously keep his body still, fighting against the instinct to flinch. He doesn’t want Eliott to startle awake, feeling a bit giddy and proud of himself even though he has nothing to do with the fact that Eliott falls asleep without any prompting on Lucas’ end. 

He keeps his eyes set on the movie, still as can be, breathing somewhat uneven despite his best efforts. The movie reaches the end credits soon enough but Lucas stays put– the remote is on the coffee table, impossible to reach without dislodging Eliott from his shoulder. 

Ever so carefully, Lucas turns his head and smiles down at the sight. Eliott looks like an angel like this– not that he _doesn’t_ look like one at any point in time but the whole angelic thing he has going on is highlighted with his eyes closed and his features lax in sleep. 

Lucas gently rests his cheek against the unruly nest of hair beside him, shimmying into a more comfortable position before letting the silence lull him into rest. _Just half an hour_ , he thinks. A little bit of a nap never hurt anyone.

 

* * *

  

He wakes up comfortably warm, the kind of warmth you only achieve once in a blue moon, when you hit the jackpot with a _perfect_ blanket burrito that’s somehow more superior than the mediocre blanket burritos from every other night. Lucas snuggles deeper into it, sighing in approval when the arms around him tighten in response.

Wait.

Blinking awake, Lucas blearily pushes off from the embrace, one hand anchored on the chest he’s just been sleeping on while the other tries its best to rub the sleep out of his eyes. 

“Stop doing that,” Eliott admonishes, voice soft. Lucas thinks there’s something playing on the television screen but the sound has been muted. 

“What?” Lucas asks, confused. 

Eliott’s fingers encircle his wrist and bring it down from where he’s still got it over his eyes. “Stop looking so cute, I’m too tired to control myself.”

And he’s too sleepy to deal with Eliott’s flirting. Lucas thunks his head right in the middle of Eliott’s chest, earning a surprised _oof_ that would’ve made him laugh if he didn’t feel so damn groggy. 

“What time is it?” His voice is muffled into Eliott’s sweater but luckily, he doesn’t have to repeat himself. 

“21h.”

Lucas groans. He has to go home now. 

“I’ll take you home,” Eliott says, somehow reading his mind. 

“It’s okay, I can go back by myse–”

“I’ll take you home,” Eliott repeats firmly, shifting from under Lucas so they can both get ready to leave. 

They take turns refreshing themselves in the bathroom, both a lot more awake now, especially when a cold blast of wind hits them right when they get outside. It’s drizzling by the time Lucas points out his building, arguing that he could have gone home by himself so Eliott could have stayed home and continued with his sleep. 

Eliott shakes his head, grinning down at him. “You don’t get it, do you?”

“What?”

“You could live an hour away, and I’d still walk you home.” 

Lucas swallows, not asking why. He thinks he knows the answer but he’s afraid of what it’ll do to his poor little heart if Eliott confirms it with that unapologetic honesty he has. 

Eliott takes him all the way to his apartment door where they stand facing each other, neither wanting to be the first to leave. 

“I guess this is where we say goodnight,” Eliott says, eyes crinkling with his smile. “Did you have fun?”

“The movie could have been better,” he teases, smiling when Eliott places a hand on his chest, mouth opening as if offended. 

“Honestly, Lucas. When will you stop hurting me?”

Lucas smiles, holding back a laugh. His neighbours might already be sleeping. “Sorry.”

“Are you really?”

“Yes.”

“Prove it.” 

“I apologize sincerely,” he says, quoting his own words from Saturday. He tries not to think of what happened after he’d said those exact words last time and fails miserably. “Do you want to… uh…” He jerks his head in the general direction behind him, fiddling with the doorknob. 

Eliott huffs out a laugh. “No, it’s okay. I actually have an essay I gotta finish.” 

“Oh, okay.” Lucas hopes he doesn’t sound as disappointed as he feels. They literally just spent hours together at Eliott’s place. “Um, goodnight then.”

Eliott stops him from going inside and Lucas holds his breath as the other boy lifts a hand, fingers softly brushing away the strands of hair near Lucas’ eye. 

“Goodnight, Lucas.” He walks backwards, keeping his gaze on Lucas until he has to turn the corner for the elevators. 

Lucas doesn’t move for a while, listening for the echoing ring of the elevator opening and closing before shaking himself out of his daze. 

He steps inside his apartment, shutting the door with a soft click. It’s dark and quiet inside, meaning Yann still hasn’t come back from wherever he is. Lucas heaves out a sigh, leaning heavily against the door as he wills his heart to slow down. It’s been a little overdramatic for the whole day, being around Eliott and all— dramatic enough to have him worrying whether he’s about to experience a heart attack for every increase in its beating. 

The tree branches outside knock against the glass of their windows and Lucas draws closer to check on the weather. It’s pouring by now, prompting him to run around the room looking for the one umbrella he knows he and Yann have hidden somewhere.

“Fuck,” he mutters to himself, running back to the window to see if Eliott’s already made it outside. “Fuck, fuck, _fuck_.” He goes to his bedroom which he knows, for a fact, hides no elusive umbrella. He stands there in the middle, staring at the wall, breathing heavily. 

This is stupid. What is he doing? He doesn’t actually want the fucking umbrella. There’s something else he wants, he _needs_ to do, like an itch under his skin, getting harder and harder to ignore. 

With renewed adrenaline stemming from out of nowhere, Lucas runs back out of the apartment, hopping down the stairs two at a time as he knows that the elevator takes way too long to come to his floor. 

Eliott’s barely crossed the street when Lucas spots him, shoulders hunched against the cold and hood up to cover against the rain. 

“Eliott!” Lucas calls out, shoes splashing against the wet pavement as he runs. “Eliott, wait!”

Eliott turns, looking genuinely surprised to see Lucas.  

“What are you doing?” Eliott asks once Lucas’s in hearing range, voice slightly raised to be heard over the pouring rain. 

Lucas shakes his head, hands trembling, looking up at Eliott despite the rain trying its damndest to pelt him into blindness. He squints against it, hoping for his shivers to go unnoticed. “I— I’m—”

“What?” Eliott steps closer, moving so he towers over Lucas enough to shield him from the outpour.

And fuck him. Fuck this boy for treating him so wonderfully. Effortless, like Lucas is his to take care of. “I’m apologizing.” 

He grabs the sides of Eliott’s hood and drags him down for a kiss. 

The press of their lips is no fireworks, no time standing still solely for the two of them– no, it’s nothing like in the movies. It’s an inhale after submerging, an exhale after the first breath— freeing and vital. Only _natural_. 

Eliott’s hands come up to cup the back of his head, keeping him still as if afraid Lucas would pull away any time soon which, yeah, fat chance of that happening. His own hands slide down, gripping the soaked material of Eliott’s jacket, bringing him down, pulling him closer, _more_.

He feels those warm hands shift down, arms circling his waist in a tight grip before Eliott straightens up until he’s no longer bent over for the kiss. Lucas feels his feet leave the ground, but he doesn’t even care, opting to bury his hands inside the mess of Eliott’s hair, comfortably accessible from his elevated position. 

Lucas doesn’t make the connection until a while later, when Eliott’s just started to bite at Lucas’ lips, tongue a teasing presence in between, asking for permission that Lucas would have easily allowed if only he didn’t start laughing right at the same moment. 

Eliott groans, actually whining out an offended, “ _Lucas_.”

“I’m sorry.” Lucas laughs, rearranging his arms to wrap around Eliott’s neck so he can squeeze him in a tight hug as he muffles his laughter into his own shoulder. “Sorry, sorry. It’s just… are you enjoying your Ryan Gosling moment?” He barely finishes his sentence before dissolving into wild laughter. 

He feels more than hears Eliott’s answering chuckles. “Stop making fun of my moment. It’s awesome.” 

“Sorry,” Lucas says again, still snickering even as their eyes meet for the first time since Lucas pulled him into the kiss. Stupidly enough, the eye contact flusters him more than anything and he breaks it, looking to the side as his fingers carefully trace the sides of Eliott’s face. “Stay with me tonight?” He asks, dropping his head a little so that their foreheads touch. 

Eliott only takes a second to respond, “Yeah.” Voice like a breath knocked out of his lungs. “ _Yeah_ , fuck that essay. I’m not going anywhere,” he says in a rush, angling up to catch Lucas’ lips in another searing kiss. 

Lucas smiles into it, lips parting to continue where they’d left off. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (☞ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)☞


	8. Chapter 8

He’s glad Yann never comes home for the night.

The sink’s running in the bathroom when Lucas crawls out of bed to go through his closet. They hadn’t bothered to change into dry clothing, merely chucking their sodden clothes down on the ground before throwing themselves on the bed in only their underwear. Sleeping hadn’t been on the table for the night either.

Lucas slips into the first clean hoodie he grabs and roots around for the one he knows he’d borrowed (stolen) from Yann a while ago. He’s elbow deep into the pile of clothes in the closet when Eliott returns, chuckling at the sight.

“What are you doing?”

“Looking for something,” he says, muffled from his less than stellar position. The hoodie finally makes its dull green appearance under a hundred piles of crumpled shirts and Lucas pulls it out with a triumphant smile. “For you.”

Eliott snorts, walking over to grab it from him but he doesn’t put it on. “Thank you, but seems counterproductive, no?”

“Hm?” Lucas is distracted, thinking of how Eliott’s eyes look like a different shade in the early hours of the morning— still beautiful and bright, sparkling with life despite the obvious lack of sleep, but it appears to be a shaded grey rather than the ice blue it normally is. He doesn’t realize what Eliott’s doing until there are cold hands running over the sides of his torso, pulling up his sweater until they bunch up around him like— “Stop that!” He laughs, attempting to twist away, but to no avail.

“Why?” Eliott pouts, actually _pouts_ at him, the aggravating fucker.

“Put it on, we need some sleep.” Lucas stills, realizing he’s not going anywhere unless Eliott lets up.

“What’s wrong with sleeping shirtless?”

“Nothing, except we won’t sleep that way and you know it.”

Eliott leans in, biting at the bottom of Lucas’ lips. “I don’t see a problem with that either.”

“You are so annoying,” Lucas whispers before pressing Eliott into the closet door and surging up to crash their lips together. He feels the huff of breath from Eliott’s cute little laugh and Lucas has to pause, his answering smile an automatic reaction to it. Eliott chases him down but Lucas pulls on his hair, keeping him in place. Eliott’s pupils are blown wide despite the abundance of light in the room and Lucas’ spine tingles in pleasure, knowing he’s the center of this golden boy’s infatuation. Slowly, teasingly, he stands on his toes to brush their lips together, dodging when Eliott moves to catch him. Lucas ducks down, peppering tiny kisses on Eliott’s jaw, moving up his cheek, towards his nose— and when he returns to where Eliott wants him most, he graces the other boy with an unsatisfying peck on the lips.  

“Fuck, _you’re_ annoying.” It’s all the warning Lucas gets before Eliott scoops him up and takes him to bed, the two of them bouncing on the mattress from the force of it. Lucas can’t help but laugh, awfully endeared by Eliott’s childish frown. “Stop laughing at me.”

But of course he doesn’t. Lucas lets out a snort, having the decency to try and keep his amusement to himself at least. He covers his mouth, laughter clear in his eyes as Eliott traps him in between his arms, hands balanced on the pillow under Lucas’ head. “Sorry,” he manages to choke out before breaking into a round of giggles.

Eliott removes the hands covering Lucas’ face. “I don’t believe you.”

Lucas sobers immediately, breath hitching at the intensity in Eliott’s eyes. “I… sincerely apologize.” He means to say it as a joke, but it comes out too soft, too dazed.

“Oh yeah?” Eliott moves, hands sliding down Lucas’ legs to encircle his ankles, gently nudging them apart so that Eliott can fit comfortably in between. Lucas loses his breath, only taking another shaky inhale once Eliott’s hands have shifted back up to cup the sides of his neck. “Prove it.”

Lucas can’t answer, especially not when Eliott’s thumb glides over his lips, touch soft and fleeting— until it’s not. Until it presses down on Lucas’ bottom lip, asking for entrance in the most criminal of ways and _fucking hell_ Lucas barely has enough time to register his own gasp before Eliott’s tongue is in his mouth, running over the roof, teasing Lucas’ own in a dance he’s become so familiar with over the course of the night. Eliott’s kisses are deep and searching— a wildfire, like Lucas is a territory he’s only got until dawn to claim, as if there’s any chance in hell that Lucas wouldn’t be ruined for anyone else after this.

His own hands loosen their tight grip on the sheets, flying up to grab hold of Eliott the moment he’s got them out of paralysis. He doesn’t know where to touch, hands frantically moving from Eliott’s messy locks and to those distractingly broad shoulders before finally settling on his forearms, using the leverage to pull Eliott closer. Lucas belatedly thanks whichever deity had given him the braincell to put some clothes on earlier. He doesn’t think he’d survive it if they do this while in his previous state of undress, though he doesn’t stop it this time when Eliott pushes his hands under the hoodie to settle around his bare waist. Lucas moves his own hands down Eliott’s spine, sliding towards the small of his back, trailing faint nail marks on the pale canvas.

His stomach drops when Eliott’s fingers flutter along the waistband of his boxers, thumbing at the elastic so that it pulls down a little. Lucas lets him, blaming the loud pounding of his heart on that same nervous feeling he sometimes gets whenever he has Eliott to himself.

But the sensation doesn’t go away— in fact, his heartbeat’s drumming so loud it feels like it’s trying to jump straight out of his ears. Lucas takes the hand low on his hips and intertwines their fingers together before pulling both to rest atop his rabbiting heart. Safely over the fabric of his hoodie.

Eliott pulls away to look at him and Lucas stops breathing, forcing his mouth to work out a stuttering excuse. “Sorry, your hand’s cold.”

Eliott doesn’t say anything right away, only brings their joined hands up to his lips to kiss over Lucas’ knuckles. “No, sorry, I forgot they get cold in the morning.”

“Every morning?”

“Mhm.”

“Damn, I guess no one’s perfect after all, huh?”

Eliott laughs, rolling over to drop down on the space beside Lucas, pulling him along so that Lucas lies down on top of him instead. Lucas happily obliges, nuzzling into Eliott’s neck.

“What time is it?”

Lucas replies with indistinct noises, gesturing in the general direction of their phones lying face down on the ground.

“Okay, thank you for that helpful input.”

“Shut up.” Lucas digs his chin into Eliott’s collarbone until he gets an offended yelp. “I don’t see you getting up either.”

“You’re on me.”

“You _literally_ pulled me— oh what the fucking ever.” Lucas rolls his eyes, scrambling out of the tangle that’s become of their limbs to grab their discarded phones. His notifications have blown up; he hasn’t checked it since posting that photo of Eliott on their date. Shit. 

He drops back into bed, landing right on top of Eliott. He doesn’t hide the obnoxious laughter that comes after Eliott complains about it.

“Shush, I’m in trouble because of you.”

Eliott sits up, kissing him softly as he takes his phone from Lucas’ hold and really, Lucas can’t even pretend to be mad at that.

“Why? What are your friends saying?”

Lucas watches Eliott open up his own phone before answering, biting the inside of his cheek in amusement as he watches him struggle to keep a straight face. He can only imagine what Eliott’s own friends must be saying. From what little Lucas has encountered of them, it seems that they can be quite a handful to deal with. 

“I don’t know, I haven’t pulled up any of my chats yet. But…”

“But you have 300 unread messages?”

“Something like that.”

“Same.” Eliott taps at his screen, rolling his eyes at what he sees before placing it down on the desk beside the bed. Both boys had muted their phones last night before watching the movie at Eliott’s, not wanting the annoying pings from their phones to disturb them. “I think we’ve got a good excuse, though.”

“Yeah?”

“Too busy cuddling with my boyfriend, sorry, please try again later.”

“Oh, so I’m your boyfriend now?” He asks, grin uncontrollably wide across his face. Hearing Eliott call him his boyfriend is unexpectedly vital to his existence.

Eliott looks at him, eyebrows raised skeptically. “So you just make out like this with anyone or what?”

Lucas shifts, kneeling as he reaches over Eliott to hide his phone under the pillow his _boyfriend_ is leaning on before throwing one leg over so that he’s straddling Eliott’s lap. “No,” he says, burying both hands inside Eliott’s unruly hair, placing a sweet little kiss on his nose. “Just with my boyfriend.”

 

* * *

 

They’re slumped down on the living room couch now, both skipping their Friday classes in favour of watching old tv show reruns and ‘catching up with their schoolwork’. They’ve deemed that playing hooky is acceptable _only this one time_.

“Have you been with anyone before?” Eliott questions offhandedly. Lucas doesn’t know what triggers the topic, but he figures it’d look suspicious if he avoids the subject altogether. 

 _Oh boy_. He juggles the question around in his head, thinking of the most honest yet least revealing way to word it. He settles on a number. “Two.”

“Serious ones?”

“Uh,” he stalls, holding back the bitter part of himself that wants to say _serious for me, at least_. “Kinda? First one was when I was sixteen and, I don’t know, we met at a… not ideal place so I don’t really know what I was expecting, honestly,” he rambles, playing with the strings of his hoodie. “Second was—” _Raphael_ , the name still leaves a sour taste on his tongue. “—before I graduated high school. But he was kind of an asshole, so.”

Eliott’s arm tightens around his shoulders, silent for long enough that Lucas is able to repeat his own words in his head, unsure whether to laugh or punch himself for how juvenile he’s made everything sound. But in the end, he concludes that it’s better this way; he and Eliott have _just_ gotten together, there’s no way that Lucas won’t scare him off if he unloads even a little bit of his problematic baggage right now. He’s very much used to carrying them alone anyway.    

“I was with one person for five years,” Eliott mutters eventually.

Lucas blinks up at him, lips slightly parted in awe. “That’s… a long time.” Considering their age, at least. Lucas doesn’t know many people to have lasted that long.

“You think so?”

“Are you kidding?” He leans an elbow up on the back of the couch, looking down at Eliott with furrowed brows. “Some _real_ adults can’t even stay together that long.”

Eliott smiles at him, running his hands through Lucas’ bed head he’s all too lazy to fix. “You don’t consider us real adults?”

“I’ve been eating cheesebread for the past two weeks, you can’t call that an adult lifestyle.”

Eliott’s shoulders scrunch up in laughter. “Yann doesn’t have anything to say to that?”

“He’s the one making the fucking bread.”

“Christ.” Eliott shakes his head, pulling Lucas back down to kiss him on the cheek. “Come live with me, I’ll feed you properly.”

“You know how to cook?”

“No, but I can afford more than cheesebread.”

Lucas sits up again, glaring down at him playfully. “Are you trying to buy me?”

“Yes.” Eliott laughs, stroking a hand down Lucas’ neck. “Ditch Yann, come with me.”

“I can’t do that.” Lucas rolls his eyes, lying all the way down this time, head comfortably resting on Eliott’s lap.

Eliott’s smile pulls wider when their eyes connect. “You know, I really thought  you and him were a thing before.”

“What the fuck.” Lucas squints at him, fighting his urgent need for a nap. “Why?”

“Idris saw you two on a date once.”

Lucas squints harder, baffled by this information. Never have they _ever_ gone on a date, him and Yann. “What the fuck is he– _oh_.” He starts chuckling at the memory, only light at first, but then he sees Eliott’s affronted expression and begins laughing harder until he has to turn on his side so he doesn’t start wheezing.

“Dont laugh!” Eliott admonishes, pulling at his shoulder to turn him back over. Lucas allows it, wiping at the forming tears in his eyes as he faces his boyfriend. “I was really miserable.”

“I’m sorry,” Lucas says shortly before being consumed by another bout of giggles. “It was a new restaurant, they had this promo thing.” He swallows, still smiling even as his laughter dies down. “For couples. It was a huge discount.”

“You actually pretended to date so you can eat at some pretentious little restaurant for couples?”

“Don’t say it like that, the food was good!” Lucas flicks him on the chin, earning an annoyed grumble for his efforts. “Besides, me and Yann had like ten euros between the two of us, the promo was basically a godsend.”

“I guess.” Eliott shrugs, lips still downturned a little. Lucas’s hopelessly fond as he pulls his giant baby of a boyfriend into a kiss.

The memory replays in his mind like a movie reel, remembering how hard it had been for him and Yann to not give anything away by losing themselves in their guffaws the entire time at the restaurant. Lucas had still been unemployed back then.

Wait.

“Eliott.” He taps on his boyfriend’s shoulder until Eliott peels his eyes off the tv screen. “Since when did you know about me?”

Eliott runs a finger down Lucas’ cheekbones, licking his own lips before muttering, “Since your first day in campus.”

Oh. _Oh_. That’s– that’s. Okay. “Wow,” he whispers to himself. 

“You were in the theatre and the orchestra still hasn’t put away their equipment,” Eliott continues, a tiny smile curling at the corners of his lips as he recalls that moment. “You were on the piano and I was just behind the curtains. You didn’t see me.” He shakes his head. “I wanted to approach you so bad.”

“Why didn’t you?” Lucas remembers ditching his orientation group on the first day, sneaking around campus instead and figuring his way around on his own. Or, well, not on his own actually.

“I turned the corner and saw Yann was there with you.”

Lucas groans. Yann again. Who’d have known that his own best friend– kind, supportive Yann, has been unknowingly cockblocking him all this time? “Fuck.”

Eliott chuckles. “Yeah. You two looked like you were having such a good time, I didn’t wanna interrupt.”

“Jesus, I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing? It’s not like you knew.”

“Yeah but.” Lucas shrugs, turning over to nuzzle into Eliott’s stomach. “What if I didn’t find you after? What if I never liked that post? Never followed you?”

“But you did.” Eliott runs a soothing hand over his back. “And besides, I would’ve eventually found out that you and him aren’t together.” He leans down, whispering close to Lucas’ ear, “It was only a matter of time before I’d have gone after you either way.”

Lucas feels his entire body heat up so he’s glad to have his face hidden.

“How’d you know about me?” Eliott asks, caressing the back of Lucas’ head like that’s doing anything but lulling him to sleep.

“Polaris,” Lucas says around a yawn. “Watched that like four times before reading the description box and stalking the director– your little riddle kept me up all night you know.”

Eliott drags Lucas up, making the latter whine. He misses the coziness of his previous position already. “You actually solved it?”

Lucas frowns. “Yeah? Took me longer than it would’ve if I hadn’t been sleep deprived but, you know, I’m still smart like that.”

“You could’ve just googled it.”

“That’s for the weak. I’m not weak.”

Eliott laughs, pulling him closer to brush a kiss against his temple. “You solved the riddle to find me.”

“Stop that,” Lucas says. “You were so hot in that intro video, can’t really blame me fo– _ah shit_.” Ah, shit, indeed. His brain’s too sleep muddled to filter out his words now.

“What did you say?” Eliott beams, shaking him a little, which, fucking _rude_.

Lucas groans out a mumbled complaint. “Nothing.”

“No, no, you said I was what?”

“I said you’re _annoying_ , leave me alone.”

“That’s not what I heard.”

“Better get your hearing checked then.” He tries to wiggle out of Eliott’s arms, willing for his blush to die down before Eliott takes notice of it.

He’s not so lucky on that front. Or any front at all for that matter.

“No, baby,” Eliott says softly. “Please repeat what you said to me.”

Fuck. Who said boyfriends are a good idea again?

“I said you’re the hottest bastard I’ve ever seen in my life,” Lucas mutters close to Eliott’s lips before nibbling at it until they part open for him. Eliott lets out a harsh breath through his nose, grabbing hold of Lucas’ thighs to drag him proper over his lap.

 

* * *

 

Later that night, Eliott nudges him awake, fingers incessantly poking at his stomach until Lucas has to swat them away.

“Lucas, how long have you been stalking my profile before you followed me?”

Lucas removes the pillow from below his head just to smack Eliott in the face with it.

 

* * *

 

When Saturday morning comes with no Yann, Lucas pulls his phone out of hibernation to tick off his best friend duty of making sure his buddy’s still alive and well. He stares at the ever exploding group chats he’s yet to read through and decides to bypass them for now. Again.

He can almost hear Daphne’s phantom screams of betrayal inside his head.

 **lucallemant  
**are you okay?

 **y4z4s  
**you’d know if you checked the chat

 **lucallemant  
**sorry I’ll do that tomorrow

 **y4z4s  
**nah it’s fine they can wait  
me on the other hand cannot  
so spill

 **lucallemant  
**it’s easier to just tell you in person  
where the hell have you been?

 **y4z4s  
**saw you and eliott walking Thursday night when I left  
figured you were still together when you wouldn’t answer your phone  
didn’t wanna disturb you guys so I crashed at bas’ place

 **lucallemant  
**💕 💕

 **y4z4s  
**I know I’m the best  
you owe me

 **lucallemant  
**I’ll prepare u gourmet dinner

 **y4z4s  
**please don’t cook

 **lucallemant  
**ungrateful

 **y4z4s  
**can I come home today?

 **lucallemant  
**yeah eliott’s leaving in a bit

Lucas pockets his phone, smiling when Eliott comes out of the bathroom with his jeans half done, damp hair in a disarray, saying something that Lucas has completely missed because he’s too busy marvelling at this beautiful boy who somehow saw the disaster he is and thought _yeah, him_.

“Lucas?”

“Hm?”

“Where’s my jacket?”

He snaps out of his thoughts and gets up to grab Eliott’s jacket from the balcony– it hadn’t rained on Friday and Lucas took advantage of the good weather to let their clothes dry outside. It had been pretty chilly overnight, however, so Lucas folds the jacket over his arms and hugs it close, hoping to warm the material up a little before Eliott wears it.

The other boy’s haphazardly rubbing a towel over his head when Lucas gets back. Lucas snorts, dropping the jacket on a chair as he snatches the towel from Eliott’s hands.

“Sit,” he says, pushing Eliott down on the bed. He kneels on the space behind him and carefully dries Eliott’s hair, making sure he doesn’t pull too hard on the strands. Eliott sighs, leaning back against Lucas’ chest. It makes his task a little more challenging but Lucas isn’t about to utter a peep of complaint.

“I can get used to this,” Eliott mutters, closing his eyes.

“What?”

“Waking up beside you.” Eliott’s hands cover Lucas’, halting his movements. “Getting to kiss you anytime I want.” He leans up to place a short peck over Lucas’ lips. “You taking care of me like this.” The smile on Eliott’s face is extra blinding. Lucas hadn’t thought that possible. “I like it.”

“Stop that,” Lucas murmurs, dipping down to give Eliott another kiss– this time a little longer, a little deeper. “Or I might not let you leave today.”

“Maybe I don’t wanna leave.” Eliott quips back, turning around to kneel on the bed as well.

Lucas sees the intent in his gaze right away and puts a stop to it before they lose themselves in each other again. “Your _parents_ are expecting you for supper, Mr. Demaury.”

Eliott groans, grabbing the shirt he’s borrowed from Lucas and pulling it on. Lucas lets him get ready in silence, careful not to distract him too much so he doesn’t run late. They’d both been somewhat disappointed when Eliott received a text from his dad reminding him of the dinner plans they’d made a while ago but Lucas is the last person to ever deprive anyone of quality time spent with their parents so he convinces Eliott out of rescheduling it.

After a mundane argument about Eliott wearing his hoodie _and_ his jacket, Lucas loses the lackluster fight and lends Eliott a backpack to stuff everything he doesn’t want to wear inside ( _socks_ , Lucas thinks, he can’t believe he’s chosen a guy who doesn’t like wearing _socks_ ).

They eventually get to the door but Eliott lingers, looking so genuinely saddened by their shortened weekend together that Lucas almost says _fuck it_ to being a decent human being so he can drag Eliott back inside his room.

Luckily, both of them exercise more self control than that. “Lucas.”

“Yeah?”

“Can I tell my parents about you?”

He takes a deep breath, trying not to choke on his own emotions. “You wanna tell them about _me_?”

“If that’s okay with you,” Eliott earnestly tacks on.

“Yeah,” Lucas says, breathing out a small chuckle. “Yeah, of course.”

“Cool.”

“Yup.”

“Okay.”

“Great.”

Eliott bounces on the balls of his feet. “Uh, Lucas?”

“Mhm?”

“What would… what would your parents think about me?”

Lucas smiles, bringing both hands up to cup Eliott’s adorable little nervous face. “My mama would love you.”

The response gets him that lovely, _precious_ smile he’s fast falling in love with.

“And your–”

Lucas gets on the tips of his toes and kisses him quiet. It’s close mouthed and soft, just the press of their lips together, breathing against each other at the standstill. Lucas lets Eliott squeeze him into his arms for a second longer before pulling away with an urgent pat on his boyfriend’s chest. “You’re gonna miss the bus, hurry.”

“Okay, yeah, shit.” Eliott turns around and then spins back in Lucas’ direction to steal another kiss. “Fuck, I don’t wanna leave you.”

Lucas laughs. “ _Go_ , Eliott. We’ll talk later, I promise.” 

“Okay.”

“ _Okay_.” 

**lucallemant  
**so cheesy

 **srodulv  
**you liked it though

 **lucallemant  
**cause it’s my job to like everything you post  

 **srodulv  
**oh yeah?

 **lucallemant  
**yeah  
it’s part of the boyfriend contract  
you have to like everything I post too

 **srodulv  
**ok so where’s my matching boyfriend post?

 **lucallemant  
**your what?

 **srodulv  
**it’s also on the boyfriend contract  
if I post cute shit you gotta one up me with more cute shit and so on

 **lucallemant  
**hmmmmm

 **srodulv  
**:(

 **lucallemant  
**I don’t have a pic

 **srodulv  
**you do  
I took it myself on thursday  
with your phone

 **lucallemant  
**LOL  
ELIOTT  
WHY

 **srodulv  
**it’s cute :(

 **lucallemant  
**you are so annoying

 **srodulv  
**❤️💛💚💙💜🖤

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAHAHA  
> HA
> 
> haha  
> I hope you guys enjoyed ♥️


	9. Chapter 9

He’s in the library, trying to study for his upcoming chemistry exam– _trying_ being the keyword over herebecause his needy as hell boyfriend seems physically unable to detach himself from Lucas.

Boyfriend. _Boyfriend_. He still can’t believe he’s free to use that word with Eliott. 

 **daph.pink  
**You’re really not saying anything about Eliott?? 

 **lucallemant  
**It’s all over my instagram 

 **martineau.brie  
**He lives!!

 **em.brgs  
**You didn’t even warn us  
You were all hurr durr we just follow each other  
And next thing we know you’re canoodling with the guy

 **daph.pink  
**Is it official??

 **em.brgs  
**They’ve literally been cheese posting on insta 

 **daph.pink  
**So? It was their hands, no faces 

 **goodgalimane  
**I think the comments give it away  
And check Lucas’ story just now 

 **daph.pink  
**Omg   
I missed that

 **lucallemant  
**Yeah we’re together 

 **martineau.brie  
**LOL  
DETAILS

 **goodgalimane  
**NO details 

 **lucallemant  
**Lol no details 

 **manon.demissy  
**I’m so!! happy for you Lucas!!!

 **lucallemant  
**:)

“I thought you were studying?” Eliott nuzzles sleepily into his shoulder, propping his chin up to deign Lucas with a disappointed pout. 

Lucas doesn’t look over just to spite him. “I thought you were sleeping?” 

“I can’t fucking sleep when—” He digs inside his jeans pocket for his phone, struggling with the task as Lucas watches on, amused. “When this thing keeps going off.” As if on cue, his phone pings with another notification and Eliott opens it up with an exasperated sigh. “Oh shit.”

“Oh shit what?” 

“We need to leave.” 

“Why? No!” Lucas finds himself gathering his notes and textbooks together despite his own words. “What’s wrong?”

“They’re coming.”

“Who?” 

“Those little demons—” Before Eliott can finish, a chorus of footsteps stumbles into their area. They’re in a corner at the back of the library, where Lucas usually spends his time whenever he needs to hide and focus on his studies. He’s perfected the timing to the tee, knowing when exactly to arrive so that he’d have the place all to himself.

So much for that today, though. 

“Lucas!” Abe greets him like a long lost friend, which makes Lucas laugh. He can pick him out from the group as they’ve seen each other once before when Lucas had been over at Imane’s. “Good to see you again.” 

“Hey,” Lucas says, nodding and accepting the offered hands for a high five. The other boys thankfully have their faces on their Instagram profiles so he has a vague idea of who’s who already even before Eliott begrudgingly stands up to introduce everyone. 

“So you all know Lucas,” Eliott starts, holding his hand out to pull Lucas up from the couch as well. “Lucas, these are my idiot friends, I think they’ve been bothering you for the past few days and I’m very sorry about that.” 

“We’re not _bothering_ him.”

“We’re making _friends_.” 

There’s a thump and a crash and then Idris’ head pops in from between the shelves. “There you all are! I was lost.” Idris carefully jogs up to them, trying to make as little noise as possible. “Hey, Lucas,” he greets with excitement, reaching over to pull him into a hug that lasts all of two seconds before Eliott’s arm slips in between. His hand pushes Idris away by the face. “Ow, rude!” Idris yelps and the rest of the guys snicker, making disapproving tutting noises while Eliott pulls Lucas to himself. 

Lucas snorts, kissing the frown off of Eliott’s face. 

“Okay, stop. We get it, you’re in love.” He thinks that’s Adam who’s speaking. 

“No, deal with it. You all invited yourselves here.” Eliott waves a dismissive hand, sticking his tongue out like an irate child. 

Emir rolls his eyes, shushing Omar when he starts to protest. “We wouldn’t be here if you just answered your fucking phone.” 

“Oh yeah!” Abe claps his hands together and the guys shush him all at once, frantically pointing to where the librarian is looking increasingly irked. “Sorry, okay, so. This guy in my class is throwing a party this Friday and he’s asking if you’re coming?” 

Eliott’s eyes narrow. “Are you all going?” 

“Yeah, but he’s asking about you cause, you know, it’s gonna be real big if you’re there.” Omar laughs, tapping at something on his phone. “See? He’s already tagging some of the popular students in it. I still don’t know if it’s a brave or a dumb move.” 

“More like a shameless move,” Emir mumbles from the side. 

Lucas blinks at the blatant exploiting of Eliott’s fame. He looks up at Eliott to watch his expression but his boyfriend doesn’t seem to have a problem with it. There’s an amused smile playing at his lips and he stares down at Lucas, quirking a brow as if asking what he thinks about it.

Belatedly, he realizes that Eliott’s only going if Lucas himself is going. “Uh.” This is too much power for his irresponsible hands.

“Lucas, say yes, the more people come, the more free booze will appear,” Idris whispers jokingly, flinching when Emir smacks him upside the head. 

“I… yeah? Okay. Can I bring some people?” 

“Hell yeah, bring everyone you know. Okay, cool. I’ll let little Tommy over here know that he’s got Eliott Demaury in attendance.”

Lucas’ phone vibrates with a text message, stealing his attention away from the rest of the conversation.

 **Marie  
**Hi, Lucas.  
I have an emergency back home so I’ll be out of the country for a couple of weeks.  
I was wondering if you’d be able to look after Champ again while I’m gone? 

 **Lucas  
**Hey Marie, yeah for sure! I wouldn’t mind

 **Marie  
**Thank you so much!

 **Lucas  
**When are you leaving?

 **Marie  
**In two days 

 **Lucas  
**Did you want me to pick her up now so you don’t have to worry about anything tomorrow? 

 **Marie  
**That would be so helpful   
Thank you so much, my dear 

 **Lucas  
**I’ll be there in a few!!

When he tunes back in, the guys are already starting to file out, arguing about something that Lucas has completely missed. 

“Anyway, Eliott, see you in class at some point. Lucas, see you on Friday.” Idris shoots them some finger guns, walking backwards as they all try to squeeze out of the area at once. 

Lucas has no idea how the librarian’s managed to resist kicking them all out. 

“Do you remember Champagne?” He flicks through the bus schedule on his phone, trying to see how long it would take for him to get to Marie’s house from here. He’s not used to busing directly to her place, they usually meet up at the clinic with his mother. 

“The dog you take on dates?” 

He laughs, recalling the conversation they had after posting that particular photo. “Yeah, her owner’s going away for a bit so she’s gonna be staying with me. I have to go pick her up. Wanna come?”

Eliott’s positively glowing at him and Lucas has to blink back from the blinding sunshine in his smile. “Yeah, of course.” Lucas doesn’t know why Eliott looks like he’s just been offered a white picket fence and three Labrador puppies but he’s not about to set out and dampen that lovely grin. 

“Okay, let me study a bit more and then we go.”

“Sure.”

Marie and Champagne are waiting by the front porch when the two of them arrive and Eliott falls to his knees, making embarrassing inhuman noises as Champagne toddles over in all her fluffy little glory. 

“Oh my god!” Eliott hisses, hands held out at the ready so that Champ can run straight into his arms. “Oh my god, Lucas! She’s so cute.”

“That she is.” He crouches down to rub a thumb over Champ’s face, laughing when an annoyed paw pushes his finger away. “Hey, Marie.” 

“Hi, Lucas.” Her eyes flick over to Eliott, a knowing smile plastered on her red stained lips. Lucas rolls her eyes at her and she lets out an uncharacteristic chortle– Marie’s truly feeling more and more like that one laid back aunt who indulges you in anything and everything than simply being his mama’s nurse.

“Hello!” Eliott jumps up, Champ held securely in his arms. She seems to be enjoying her current perch and Lucas doesn’t blame her; Eliott gives the warmest, softest cuddles. “I’m Eliott.” 

“Nice to meet you, Eliott.” Marie continues to give Lucas _that look_ and he finally gives in, rubbing a hand over his face, trying for a nonchalant expression that he’s sure misses the mark completely. 

“He’s my boyfriend.” 

Lucas hadn’t thought it possible but Eliott seems to perk up even more. 

“It’s nice to meet you too,” Eliott says, gracing Marie with a smile before turning to gaze down at Lucas.

“Um,” Lucas fumbles for words, still getting used to Eliott’s constant undivided attention towards him. “So we’ll just grab her stuff and get out of your way?” 

Marie giggles, actually _giggles_ at him. “Here you go, dear.” She hands over a grocery bag packed with supplies to Lucas and Champ’s leash to Eliott. “You still remember her schedule?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Alright, I’m not sure exactly when I’ll be back but it shouldn’t go over a month.” Marie glances at her wristwatch and sighs, clasping her hands together as she glances at both of them. “Well it was nice seeing you boys. I have to clean up around the house some more.” Leaning over, she gives Lucas a small peck on the cheek and Eliott graciously ducks down when she goes to do the same to him. 

Champ’s squirming in Eliott’s arms by now so Lucas pulls her to the ground to clip the leash to her collar. “I’ll see you when you get back then,” Lucas says, straightening up. Eliott grabs the grocery bag Lucas has placed on the ground. 

“Thank you again, Lucas.” Marie walks them to the gate, waving goodbye as they leave. That weird expression is still on her face and _god damn it_ , when will people stop teasing him already. 

“Anytime!” Lucas shouts over his shoulder, grinning as Champ starts running with all the might in her tiny, stubby legs. 

 

* * *

 

Lucas goes straight to the cafe after classes on Friday, having forgotten his chemistry textbook there during his last shift. Good thing he’d already studied well before the exam or he would have sent himself straight into a panic attack on Thursday. 

They’re trying to convince Basile out of wearing his lucky sweater vest on the group chat when a rapid succession of messages has his mood doused in cold water, a heavy load of unease dropping right in the middle of his stomach.

 **Mama  
**I had a dream I was burning   
It was terrifying   
Hell must feel something like this 

 **Lucas  
**Are you okay, mama?  
Do you want me there?

 **Mama  
**It’s okay, my dear son   
I will go to confession tomorrow   
He will forgive all I’ve done wrong  
Just like he’s always done

 **Lucas  
**Okay, take care tomorrow  
I love you 

His mama hasn’t sent a text like that in a while. It’s been really good with her ever since Lucas has switched her over to another clinic near campus. Marie has been an angel for them— her constant presence and genuine friendship has helped his mama through a lot. 

But it’s not the first time Marie has been away, it’s not like his mama can’t cope without her— there are other capable nurses in the clinic. Something must have happened.

He enters the cafe with his head down, staring at the messages as if that would help decipher the story behind them. Lucas knows his mother through and through. It’s a comfort for her to be able to send him messages when she’s having a rough time, but she likes to cover the truth in her words behind bible verses and senseless religion talk. 

There’s probably enough time for him to sneak a visit before going in for work tomorrow. He just has to make sure she’s doing fine with his own eyes. 

“Hey, Lucas.” Erin grins from the counter, seeming all too chipper for someone who’s working the late shift on a Friday night. “I’ve got your textbook right here.”

“Thanks.” Lucas reaches over the counter for it but pauses when he sees the small bouquet of flowers placed atop. “Uh, whose are those?” 

“Yours!” She beams, all giddy as she watches him run careful fingers over the soft petals. “Noel said some guy dropped it off for you earlier but, obviously you weren’t here, so they just left it with your stuff.” 

He’s almost a hundred percent sure it’s not Eliott. His guy knows that Lucas doesn’t work on Fridays so it wouldn’t make any sense for him to do this. Besides, they’re literally meeting up in an hour to go to the party together. It just doesn’t add up.

“Did he say what the guy looked like?” Lucas’s confused. He can’t think of anyone who would do this— sure he gets hit on at work sometimes but they’re mostly girls and never has it occurred to him that anyone would actually act on it. 

Erin shrugs. “He was in a rush when I got here so I didn’t get details.”

 **lucallemant  
**Did you leave flowers at work for me?

 **srodulv  
**No?  
You don’t even work today 

 **lucallemant  
**Ok thought so 

 **srodulv  
**Someone’s leaving you flowers?

 **lucallemant  
**No lol I think it’s just a mistake

“Keep it in the back room, we need some life over there anyway.” Lucas stuffs the textbook in his bag and heads back towards the door.

“You don’t want them?” She looks thoroughly confused at the prospect of someone rejecting a bunch of flowers from a _stranger_. Her and Eliott would probably be great friends, bonding over romance and all. 

“No, they’re not from my boyfriend.” He waves her goodbye and jogs back home, equal parts excited and dreading what Champagne has been up to while he and Yann have been away on campus. The little rascal has a penchant for chewing up shoelaces when boredom gets a hold of her. He’s pretty sure they’ve hidden everything of import behind drawers and closets, though, so Champagne shouldn’t wreck too much havoc by herself. 

“I’m home!” He declares grandly, entering the door only to find Champagne with one corner of a couch cushion in her mouth. “You absolute brat.” She greets him back with a high pitched bark, tail beginning to wag as he makes his way over. “I missed you _so much_ ,” he says with a huff, taking her into his arms as he flops over on the couch, in need of some good cuddles. 

It feels like they’ve _just_ settled in for a well deserved nap when a series of knocks interrupts the mindless monologue he’s mumbling into Champ’s fur. She must be so sick of him already. 

With a pained groan, he drags himself off the couch and opens the door to his daily reminder that Eliott Demaury is legions out of his league. 

“What the fuck,” he says, eyes dragging up and down in a quick motion. And then, because he can’t resist, “Seriously? It’s like you’re _photoshopped._ ”

Eliott’s cackling up at the ceiling by the time Lucas’ eyes settle back on his face. But in all seriousness, he should probably drag his boyfriend inside before anyone catches Eliott hanging around Lucas and his ratty sweatpants. 

“If you wanted to do the _Dirty Dancing_ lift, you could’ve just asked me, you know.”

It takes a moment for Lucas’ brain to catch up with the joke but then he scoffs, smacking Eliott’s hands away from him. “Don’t touch me, one of us will die if we attempt that.” 

Eliott looks like he’s got words about that but Champ takes the opportunity to remind them of her existence and Eliott gets effectively distracted. “My princess!” Eliott’s barely thrown his jacket over the nearest table before Champ’s already wiggling in his arms, yipping happily at the attention. “Yes, yes, I’ve missed you too, _yes I did_.” 

Lucas rolls his eyes at them as if he hasn’t been doing the exact same thing prior to Eliott’s arrival. He leaves the door unlocked for when Yann and the others arrive, throwing himself back into the cushions in an accurate imitation of a dolphin. 

“You’re not gonna get dressed?” Eliott asks, sitting on the armchair while Champ nibbles on his sleeves. 

“I don’t wanna go anymore,” Lucas warbles back at him. “I’m gonna look like a potato beside you.” 

The cushion next to him dips and he can feel Champ’s cold little nose sniffing around his head. Eliott’s hand follows right after, carding through his hair. “Don’t say that, you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.”

“You need to check your eyesight.”

Eliott laughs, “The doctor says I have 20/20 vision.”

“Well they’re lying.” 

“And why would they lie?” He feels insistent hands trying to turn him over but Lucas resists as much as he can, comfortable with his face mushed up against the pillows. 

“Because you’re actually about to turn blind but they’re letting you think that you can still see things normally.” 

Eliott’s persistence wins over Lucas’ laziness and he turns over, smiling when Eliott leans down to kiss him. “Is that so?”

“Yeah.” 

“Then I’ll have no problem with you being the last thing I see.”

“Ah.” Lucas tilts his head over the arm of the couch, looking at the door upside down when he hears the knob rattle. “That was too cheesy.” He’s pretty sure he’s not the only one hearing the faint voices coming from outside.

“Was it?” Eliott lets him up, laughing as he grabs Champ back for another round of cuddles while Basile, Arthur, and Yann sort themselves out at the door. 

There’s a disgruntled bunch of people around the porch when they arrive at the party but the two bouncers stationed at the door take one look at Eliott and immediately usher them inside.

Lucas presses his lips together, looking up at Eliott and trying not to laugh. Whoever’s hosting this party must have made sure that Eliott Demaury _must not be turned away at any cost_. Eliott catches his expression and rolls his eyes, curling an arm over his shoulder as they navigate through the crowd. 

They get stopped more times that Lucas can count– all fleeting chitchats that don’t last long enough for him to even remember the other person’s face. 

It’s not necessary anyway since every single one who approaches has their attention all on Eliott. Lucas gets a few curious glances but if these people follow Eliott on Instagram, they probably already know who Lucas is without question. It feels a bit weird, he’s not going to lie, but it’s a factor that comes with being in a relationship with Eliott so he’ll deal with it just fine.

“Eliott! Lucas!” He hears someone call out and they all turn to see Adam waving his arms wildly about. Imane and the girls are already at the table with them. 

When Idris comes by with a tray of drinks, puts a strangely sweet smelling cup of _something_ in front of Lucas and a can of soda in front of Eliott, he turns to his boyfriend with a slightly surprised, “You don’t drink?”

Eliott shrugs. “I prefer not to.” He takes a sip of his soda, eyes sliding down towards Lucas. “I don’t really smoke either. I’m boring like that.” 

Lucas smiles, shaking his head. “Doesn’t make you boring.” He drags a hand up the back of Eliott’s head and pulls him down for a kiss. Eliott presses him harder into the back of the couch, almost spilling their drinks when his hand settles over the table for leverage. 

He stops paying attention from there.

The music’s loud all around them despite their best efforts to seclude themselves into a corner. Lucas’ heart pounds along with the bass, doesn’t need alcohol in his system for his head to cloud in haze. Eliott’s all he can see, hovering over him like this, and he’s intoxicated before Eliott even dares to slip searching fingers up the back of his shirt. 

Lucas buries his hands in Eliott’s hair, feeling like he’s going to melt away in the heat if he doesn’t hold on.

There’s a screech from beside him and Lucas startles, unwillingly distancing himself from Eliott to look around their friends and–

And _what the fuck_ , how long have he and Eliott been zoned out for this to happen? 

Yann’s nearly passed out on one side while Arthur’s trying to crawl closer to him, one hand holding a tiny glass of neon pink liquid. Emma has _two_ tiny glasses of vivid colours, holding them up over her head with a determined war cry. Abe and Idris are giggling it up as they mix colours into shot glasses like the filthy enablers that they are.

So they’ve moved on to shots then. That didn’t take long at all.  

“I think we should leave,” Eliott whispers into his ear and Lucas feels goosebumps rising on his arms.

“We _just_ got here and this is gonna be funny to watch.” Lucas grins up at Eliott but his boyfriend doesn’t return the smile. In fact, the intensity in Eliott’s gaze makes Lucas swallow, breath hitching under its spell. 

“Idris,” Eliott says, holding out a hand without moving his eyes away from Lucas’. “Give me one.” 

“I thought you can’t drink,” Lucas mutters softly. Nothing’s even happening yet and he’s already out of breath,  _for the love of god_ he needs to get a hold of himself.

“I said I _don’t_ , not that I _can’t_.” Eliott tilts his head, brushing the tips of their noses together. “You trust me?”

Lucas nods with a minute shake of his head, like his body wants to stop him even when his brain screams out a resounding _yes_.

Eliott smiles, placing a slice of lime in between Lucas’ lips and _holy shit_. No. _Fuck, no_. He’s not ready.

Or maybe he is. He’s ready?

Either way, he bites into it lightly, letting the sour taste of the fruit distract him from the wetness of Eliott’s tongue against his neck. He feels Eliott’s warm breath ghost over the damp spot and Lucas shudders despite his best efforts to keep his shit together. 

Lucas thinks it ends there– that Eliott would grab the salt, take his shot, and finish Lucas up with a lime flavoured kiss on the lips. 

But Eliott forgoes all of that, blankets himself heavier over Lucas, and bites at his neck so hard that Lucas gasps audibly, letting out a startled little sound that Eliott couldn’t have possibly missed. Eliott keeps him in place with a soothing caress to his hair and Lucas buries his face in Eliott’s shoulder, breathing like he’s just ran an entire marathon. 

“You dropped the lime, baby,” Eliott whispers against his jaw, calm as can be. 

Lucas takes a deep inhale. “You fucking cheated.”

Eliott chuckles, placing lingering kisses against the underside of Lucas’ ear. “You think there are rules here?”

“Yeah.” Lucas straightens up, snatching the shot glass from Eliott’s loose hold and downing it himself. He’s not sure what Abe and Idris put in those glasses but he doesn’t care, welcomes the burn in his throat and the bitterness that stays on the surface of this tongue. “Yeah, there are fucking rules over here.” He wonders what Eliott tastes when Lucas climbs over his lap and tilts his boyfriend’s chin up to press their mouths together. 

Eliott groans, grabbing the sides of Lucas’ thighs to drag him closer, but Lucas pushes against it, knowing that they’re one wrong touch away from getting out of hand. 

“We’re leaving,” he murmurs into the space between their lips, and Eliott doesn’t need to be told twice. 

 

* * *

 

The walk home is the most _unbearable_ thing Lucas has ever experienced in his young life. For every brush of his knuckles against the back of Eliott’s hand, accidental or otherwise, an electric current shoots through him, runs along his veins, sets him alight from the inside. For every charged glance, he has to remind himself that _yes_ , public indecency is still a thing and _no_ , they can’t settle in a darkened alleyway and make out for _just a little bit_. Pretty sure that’s how people fucking die. 

So when they finally get inside the building and he pulls Eliott so hard towards him that they stagger into the door with a loud bang, Lucas doesn’t even feel one bit apologetic for it. Eliott keeps his chuckles low, mindful of the hour unlike a certain someone. 

“Where are your keys?” 

“Huh?” He’s too busy trying to lean up for a kiss damn it. 

“Your keys, baby.” Eliott cups his face with both hands, bending down to catch Lucas’ eyes. “Hey, Lucas, are you okay?” 

Lucas blinks back at him, a slight frown visible from the narrowing of his brows. “Are you asking if I’m drunk?”

Eliott shrugs, thumbs running so softly over his cheeks that Lucas can’t muster the strength to be annoyed for too long. “Are you?”

“I had one shot, Eliott, I’m fine.” He turns around and unlocks the door, barely having enough time to see Champ’s curious little ears perk up at their arrival before Eliott’s pushing him back into the door, one arm wound securely around Lucas’ waist while his free hand tangles itself inside Lucas’ hair, placed carefully behind the back of his head to gentle its impact against the door. Trust Eliott to think of that shit even in the heat of the moment. 

“If you say so,” Eliott says, running a finger over Lucas’ clothed hip bone.

“I say so,” Lucas mutters back before surging up on his toes for another kiss, pulling Eliott down so close as if to steal the very breath from his lungs.

The two boys fumble to remove their jackets, leaving the discarded clothing on the ground in favour of stumbling messily into the living room. Lucas trips over trying to remove his own shoes at one point and Eliott catches him, offended at the notion of Lucas falling over and unwittingly separating their mouths. 

They reach the hallway to the bedrooms and Eliott tugs Lucas’ legs upwards, hands roving from the sides of his face down to the back of his thighs to which Lucas quickly obliges, letting their bodies slam against one of the closed doors and _fuck yes_ but they also probably need to calm down a little. Just until they get inside his bedroom at least. 

“Shit,” Lucas gasps up to the ceiling, head tilted back to give Eliott more room when his boyfriend starts lining biting kisses on the side of his neck. There’s a door knob digging into Lucas’ back but he can’t bring himself to care— not when Eliott licks over the mark he’d made at the party earlier, not when he presses their lower bodies harder, and Lucas can’t do anything but squeeze Eliott’s shoulder a little closer, wrap the legs around Eliott’s waist a little tighter. “Wait, Eliott, wait.” Shaky fingers pull messily at Eliott’s hair and his boyfriend lets up with a final peck on the lips. Lucas sets his feet back down on the floor and gets his wits about him for thirty blessed seconds, enough to realize that his bedroom is actually the one on the opposing side. 

They giggle like scheming two year olds as they make their way inside the correct room, trading soft kisses that contradict everything his hormone-addled brain is screaming at him at the moment. But Eliott’s smile is wide and sweet, eyes glistening with _something_ that makes Lucas’ heart flutter, makes him want to stay in this bubble forever if only to keep Eliott looking this way— beautiful and content like the entire universe is in the palm of their hands. 

Lucas scratches softly at the back of Eliott’s head and the latter groans, louder when Lucas begins to drag his fingernails down with more intent, reminding Eliott of the matter at hand. He gets rid of the minuscule space between them, head tilted up towards his boyfriend’s lowered lips. Lucas doesn’t quite reach him with his feet flat on the ground like this but Eliott is putty in his hands as Lucas pulls down, lower, until he’s able to touch a teasing tongue between the seams of Eliott’s lips. 

“Fuck,” Eliott curses, eyes darkened the next time they open. Lucas laughs, barely stopping even when Eliott grips him tight and nips at his lips in retaliation. 

“Eliott,” he says, cupping Eliott’s face gently in between his hands. He lets their foreheads touch for a few heart thudding seconds before Lucas pulls away, walking backwards towards the bed. “Lock the door.” 

Eliott stands there, ruffled and kiss bruised and grinning. Lucas turns around, removing both his hoodie and the shirt underneath when he hears Eliott finally moving. The sound of the lock clicking doesn’t bring the slightest sliver of trepidation, he doesn’t have to swallow down a lump in his throat, his heart doesn’t pound with nerves stemming from out of nowhere. 

And as Eliott returns to his arms, taking his own shirt off along the way, Lucas doesn’t have a single doubt in his mind that he’ll be okay. Eliott’s body above him isn’t an intimidating presence— it’s warm, gentle, safe. 

With Eliott, he’ll be okay. 

 

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me @ me: what else can get them going other than shotgunning  
> my 2 trusty braincells: bODY SHOTS


	10. Chapter 10

"You’re sure you're okay with this?”

Lucas pauses, croissant halfway shoved in his mouth as he regards Eliott with an inquisitive brow. “With what?” 

“Me announcing to… uh… all my followers who I’m dating.”

Lucas resumes eating, rolling his eyes as he brushes the crumbs off his fingers. “I already told you it’s okay,” he says, partly muffled due to the food in his mouth. “What can they do anyway?” 

Eliott chokes on a laugh, “ _What can they do_? Lucas, have you seen the shit people do on social media?” He runs a fork over the leftover avocado on his plate. “You know what, I should probably delete that story, it’s only been half an hour anyway—”

“There’s no point, someone’s already saved that by now. It’ll just be up somewhere else.” He shrugs, feeling not an ounce of worry on this subject. “You posted about me before and if you haven’t noticed, some of your fans already found my account too.” He takes a sip of his coffee, smiling as he nibbles on the straw. “And your face is all over that one.” 

Eliott reaches over the table for Lucas’ hand, entangling their fingers together before bringing their hands up to his lips. He brushes a light kiss over the back of Lucas’ hand before pressing a smile into the same spot. “I just don’t want you feeling bad over any of this.” 

“No stranger on the internet can get to me, Eliott,” Lucas says, rolling his eyes again despite the fact that his voice might sound a tad too fond for eight in the morning. “Here.” He detaches their hands to get to his phone, pulling up that adorable photo he took of his boyfriend before leaving the apartment earlier. Tagging Eliott on the post is barely an afterthought and he cackles over the caption before placing his phone back down. “There, now if your admirers attack me it’s gonna be equally my fault.” 

Lucas hands Eliott’s phone over, laughing to himself when his boyfriend’s expression morphs into outright affront after seeing the comments. 

He goes back to eating his food, noticing that his own phone is now buzzing with a phone call. He’s been getting calls from an unknown number for the past week but no voicemails are ever left. Lucas makes a point not to answer until an actual human voice leaves a message, convinced that it’s some marketing company trying to sell him their life insurance or some shit. The buzzing stops eventually but it goes straight to into ringing again immediately after. 

Lucas wipes his hands down and turns the phone over, almost choking in his haste to swallow down the food in his mouth when he sees the caller. 

“Hello?”

“Hi, I’m looking for Lucas Lallemant?” 

“Yeah, that’s me,” he responds in a rush. “Is something wrong?”

“I’m so sorry for calling in so early, but Mrs. Lallemant has been asking for you all morning and we’re having trouble having her cooperate—”

Lucas doesn't let the nurse finish. “I’ll be there, I’ll be there soon. Can you let her know that?”

“Of course, we will, thank you—”

He’s already digging around his wallet before he ends the call, looking up to his boyfriend’s worried eyes when Lucas leaves money on the table that is very likely much more than what they owe. 

“I need to go,” he says, stumbling out of his chair in his hurry.

“Whoa, hey, slow down, what’s going on?” Eliott follows after him, catching his arm in a strong grip before Lucas can dash out to the streets without him. 

“My mom—” Shit, he doesn’t have the time nor the brain power to give Eliott the entire tragic backstory so he settles for an agitated, “It’s complicated. I have to go see her.” 

“Can I take you there?” Eliott asks carefully, holding Lucas’ face in between his hands so that the latter’s eyes would quit darting around and just focus on him. “I won’t go in with you, I’ll just drop you off. Is that okay?”

And Lucas does focus on him, worry increasing as he thinks of what Eliott’s reaction would be. But explaining to his boyfriend why he can’t accompany Lucas to a task as menial as dropping one’s significant other off to their parent’s house sounds more taxing than simply agreeing, so he nods. If Eliott notices the reluctance in the act, he doesn’t question it. 

But the closer their bus gets to the clinic, the more Lucas is starting to regret that decision. 

He can feel Eliott’s confused glances when Lucas gets off at a stop nowhere near the residential areas. The clinic is a lengthy building that takes up the entire acre beside the road— there are no other buildings beside it and the giant sign by the gated entrance gives it away without Lucas needing to explain where they are. 

Chancing a glance up at his boyfriend, Lucas can’t tell what’s going through his mind. Eliott’s face is blank, the confusion and worry from earlier have disappeared. It makes Lucas nervous.

However, that’s something he’ll have to deal with later. 

“Hey, I’m Lucas Lallemant, I got a call earlier for…”

“Ah, yes. I’ll get the nurse for you right away.” The receptionist busies herself with the phone and Lucas turns to Eliott, fiddling with the sleeves of his shirt. 

“Um, you don’t… have to stay if you don’t want to.”

Eliott’s eyes are trained on something over Lucas’ shoulder. “I’ll wait for you out here.” 

“Lucas?” A frazzled looking nurse addresses him and Lucas follows after her, trying not to think too much about Eliott being present for this. “Thank you so much for coming so quickly, we had notes on her file to call you if something like this happens but with Marie gone, we weren’t quite sure how to proceed.” 

“That’s fine, thanks.” To be fair, his mother hasn’t had any terrible meltdowns since moving into this clinic. 

“She’s in her room, not acknowledging anyone, just keeps saying your name.” 

Lucas thanks her again with a small, apologetic smile. The nurse looks young— she’s probably new, judging from the many emotions flitting across her features for every word she speaks. Lucas hasn’t seen a professional in this field who feels so much. Not even Marie. 

“Mama?” No response, but he’s figured that would happen. “I’m here now,” he continues, sitting by the bed and fixing the sheets around her shoulders. She’s situated to face the window, back towards him. “Did you need me for something?”

Still nothing. He sees the untouched glass of water placed beside her pills and Lucas runs a finger over the condensation forming on the side as he thinks of what to say next. 

She’s told him once before that hearing his voice helps her a lot. Especially on days like this, when she’s unresponsive and away from the reality she doesn’t quite want to face. 

“Do you hear it?”

Or maybe not as unresponsive as he’d thought.

Lucas straightens up, leaning on the edge of the bed to hear her soft voice better. “Hear what?”

“The trumpet.” 

There’s only silence around them. “No, mama, where is it?” 

“It’s been playing since this morning.” She turns on the bed, facing towards the ceiling. Lucas can see the pooling tears in her eyes. “The rapture’s here and I’ve been left behind. It’s because I’m such a bad mother is it? A terrible wife?”

“No—” He shuffles forward to take one of her hands in both of his. 

“Ephesians 5:22; wives, submit to your husbands,” she quotes absently, hand limp inside Lucas’ hold. “Is it because of the fight?”

A frown etches its way onto Lucas’ features. “What fight?” 

Tears escape from their fragile perch in her eyes. “He’s right.” She turns her head, looking at him this time. “Your life would be so much better if I just go.” 

Lucas doesn’t know where all of this is coming from but there’s dread forming in his chest, his mind picking up on everything that goes unsaid. “Where are you going, mama?” He shakes his head, the sight of her delicate tears triggering his own. “That’s not true, I don’t want you to go.” 

“So much better without me,” she whispers, head shifting back to resume gazing out the window. Her hand remains small and slack in his grip. It’s evident that she’s not listening to a word he says. 

Lucas gets up, scrubbing at his face as he closes the door to her room. He needs to tell Eliott to leave without him as he’s probably going to take a while— he doesn’t feel right, leaving his mama right away when she’s in this terrible of a state. 

Eliott’s standing by the walls only a few steps from the room and he gently takes Lucas’ face in his hands, wiping at the tears that stubbornly make their way down his cheeks despite his best efforts to _stop fucking crying already_. 

“Sorry, sorry I’m— this is so sudden I—” He tries to speak through the hitches in his breath. 

“Shh, don’t apologize,” Eliott says, pulling Lucas closer to place a sweet kiss on his forehead. 

This only serves to make him cry harder for whatever reason and Lucas has to take a deep breath, fists balled at his sides as he tries to reign over his emotions. “I’m gonna stay here for a bit, you should go.” His hands raise to hold onto Eliott’s forearms, thumbs tracing soft lines from back of the palm to wrist. “I don’t know how long I’ll be.” 

Eliott nods but doesn’t make a move to pull away. 

They only do so when a pair of footsteps echo in the hallway and Lucas does a double take when he sees the man walking beside his mama’s temporary nurse. “What the hell are you doing here?” 

Both his father and the nurse pause and Lucas is starting to _really_ feel bad for the poor nurse, getting caught up in their family drama all in less than a day’s worth. 

“Please excuse us,” his dad says to her and she takes the golden opportunity to scramble the hell away from them. Eliott doesn’t take the same cue, moving back to give them space but staying within Lucas’ reach. “Hello, Lucas.”

“Why are you here?” Lucas brushes off the niceties. If there’s one thing he can’t stand it’s his father pretending to be a decent human being in front of others. “Have you been talking to her?”

“Yes.”

“Who says you can do that?”

“She’s my wife, I can talk to her.”

“She’s not!” Lucas steps closer, raising his voice as if he’d done the opposite. This man has lost the right to call them his family. “You don’t get to talk to her whenever it’s convenient for you! Did you see what you’ve done? She was doing so fucking well without you!” 

“Mind your language, Lucas,” his father grits out. The sound of crumpling papers makes Lucas look down to where the man’s hands are clenched around a file folder. “I’m still your father and I won’t tolerate—”

“Oh shut the fuck up,” Lucas scoffs, shaking his head at the audacity. “You’re so full of it.” 

Lucas sees the man’s fisted hand move— he sees it, but he does nothing to stop it. Maybe if the hospital cameras catch the bastard acting with violence then Lucas would have a _real_ reason to want to throw him into jail. Or at least to have him stop stirring shit in their lives. Legally. 

But no pain reaches him even as he braces for it and when he tunes back in, it’s to Eliott’s back in front of him, one hand gripping Lucas’ father’s wrist in a firm hold. 

“That’s enough, sir,” Eliott says, mock polite. 

All hands drop back down to their respective sides but the tension remains high up in the air. 

His father’s eyes switch from Eliott to Lucas, face impassive. The thick silence only lasts a for few moments, however, because Lucas’ father is as shameless as one can get. He thrusts the file folder under Lucas’ nose, sidestepping the entire wall that is Eliott standing in between the two of them.

“Sign these and mail them back to me, pronto,” the man says, pocketing his hands once Lucas has taken the papers. “Don’t give me a hard time about this, it’s for your own good.” 

Lucas spares him the coldest glance he can manage as he reads through the file. Insurance claims? Transfer permission? To _Marseille_? Taking a sharp breath through his nose, Lucas simmers in silent rage. So this sad excuse of a man finds a new job that provides _extra allowance_ to employees caring for _disabled family members_ and suddenly he’s husband of the year? Fuck that, fuck him. 

Fuck everything and his fucked up life. 

“Fuck you,” he says, throwing the papers back at his father. He doesn’t give a shit that they land scattered on the ground— maybe the man would pick up some of his dignity along with those papers that way. 

Lucas turns around before his father gets over the shock of his reaction, gazes at his mama’s door but he _can’t_. He can’t deal right now, not after this. There’s a chance that he’d actually lose whatever’s left of his sanity if he goes in and is faced with the hopeless look in her eyes. His mother, who’s supposed to take care of him, hasn’t been able to care for herself for years and years. His father, who’s supposed to provide for him, has abandoned him for longer. Now, he’s stuck dealing with their escalating issues again, an unwilling tether to a breakable thread. He doesn’t know why his mother’s holding on so tight to the delusion of a complete family, he doesn’t know why his father’s holding on so tight to the farce of being a good man. 

And Lucas is so tired of this bullshit. 

His phone rings with the same unknown number and Lucas wants to throw it to the _fucking floor_.

He runs for the back exit, not wanting to run into his father when the man leaves the clinic as well. There’s a dire need inside him to breathe in some air, one that doesn’t linger with antiseptic, that clean, fabricated hospital smell that drives him up the wall. 

Eliott’s there to hold him when his knees threaten to buckle under him. Lucas turns into his arms immediately, clinging onto the hood of his sweater as he takes in unsteady breaths.

“I’m so sorry you had to see that,” he says into Eliott’s shoulder, tears making their unwelcome comeback in his tired eyes. 

“Don’t be sorry,” Eliott assures him, hands running back and forth over Lucas’ back. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay,” Lucas retorts. “It’s not.”

“Hey.” Eliott tilts his chin up with a thumb and smiles fondly when Lucas sniffs miserably up at him. Eliott brushes a hand through his hair and kisses him on the forehead again. Lucas’ heart melts, settling calmer with the knowledge that even if his world feels like it’s going for another ride in hell, at least Eliott’s here with him this time, the angel that brings light to his life. “Don’t worry, I get it.”

More tears spill over the corners of his eyes. Eliott deserves happiness all the time, not Saturdays with strange clinics and witnessing shouting matches with horrid fathers. 

“I’m so tired,” Lucas whispers, closing his eyes when Eliott’s thumbs come up to brush away his tears. He doesn’t know what he’ll do without them now— doesn’t ever want to go back to a time without Eliott’s warm, gentle touches. “I just wish that everything’s normal for once.” 

“Normal how?” 

Lucas gestures to the clinic where he and his father held that unpleasant confrontation. The clinic has started to become his mama’s safe space but now that man’s just gone and ruined it. “I’m _tired_ of that bullshit. Why can’t I just have a normal family?” He shakes his head, feels his phone ringing in his pocket for the thousandth fucking time and he doesn’t even want to think about what’s brewing on that front. Telemarketers aren’t that persistent. “Why can’t I just have normal people around me? A _normal life_? Fuck, I hate this. I don’t wanna deal with any _more_ of this.” 

Eliott’s quiet above him but he holds Lucas tight in his arms, very tight. Lucas buries his face in Eliott’s neck and locks his own arms around Eliott’s torso, deflating after finally getting those thoughts out in the open. 

“You don’t have to.” Eliott whispers into Lucas’ temple, cheek nuzzling into his hair. 

“Hm?”

“You won’t have to deal with it.” 

“How?” 

“Let’s get you home, okay?” 

  

* * *

 

Yann is still there when Eliott drops him off at the apartment. Lucas must look as shitty as he feels because Yann doesn’t tease when he opens the door for them, Lucas being too out of it to bring out his keys. He can feel his best friend and his boyfriend exchange glances above his head and in a better state, he’d probably coo at how they’re able to hold silent conversations already. 

But as it is, Lucas just wants to take a goddamn nap.

Lucas turns to ask if Eliott would like to stay with them but his boyfriend brings him in for a rather abrupt embrace, so quick and inexplicably strong that Lucas loses his breath for a moment. His hands fly up to Eliott’s shoulders, fingers digging into the fabric of his hoodie as he presses his nose to Eliott’s chest. Eliott has his face buried in his neck and Lucas feels him take a deep, lingering inhale before pulling away with a soft touch to Lucas’ hair. 

“Take care of yourself, hm?” 

Lucas nods dumbly, watching Eliott walk away. 

  

* * *

 

**lucallemant**  
thank you for coming with me earlier  
do you have any plans tomorrow?

 **srodulv**  
me and idris actually have to start another project so I'm gonna be busy for a while

 **lucallemant**  
oh ok  
airplane mode type of busy?

 **srodulv**  
yeah

 **lucallemant**  
okay, take care of yourself this time lol  
don’t forget to eat and sleep   
good night eliott ♥️

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I sincerely apologize


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: mild violence, PTSD symptoms

Lucas watches the numbers on his notifications blow up. Ten, fifty, a hundred— mostly messages from curious strangers inquiring about the status of their relationship. Lucas doesn’t understand how any one of them would think that Lucas would spare them an answer. 

He messes with the settings until his direct messages are only open to the people he follows. 

Eliott’s been silent for so long, even on social media, that everyone’s frantically latching onto this update on his story— Lucas included. But he doesn’t understand. He listens to the song over and over, looks up the lyrics to make sure his English isn’t failing him, and ends up back on Eliott’s story. 

The song can’t be directed at him, right? Lucas can’t think of anything that went wrong the last time they were together. Well, everything went wrong but nothing _between the two of them_. 

Honestly, it’s evident that something suspect is happening when he saw Idris post something on his account the day prior. Idris had told him before that both he and Eliott shut off their technology whenever they have to seriously work on a project so why is Idris available for contact but Eliott is not?

 **lucallemant  
**Is your project going okay? 

 **idrisomd  
**What project?

 **lucallemant  
**The one Eliott said you guys need to work on? His phone’s been on airplane mode no?

 **idrisomd  
**Oh yeah, that project  
Uhhhh   
Maybe it’s better if you ask him?

 **lucallemant  
**Haven’t seen him since Saturday

 **idrisomd  
**oh

 **lucallemant  
**Was there even a project at all?

Lucas isn’t dumb, he’s had a bad feeling about this whole project thing three days into Eliott’s abrupt silence. There’s just something very strange about the fact that he hasn’t seen hide nor hair of him despite Lucas orchestrating ‘chance meetings’ by hanging around his boyfriend’s building at the most convenient times. It’s like Eliott’s gone airplane mode not only with his phone, but with life as well. 

All he needs is confirmation before he can allow himself to get angry at the sudden disappearance— and what a confirmation it is when Idris doesn’t respond to that simple question. 

His jittery legs begin bouncing under the table. What did he do to drive Eliott away now? Lucas runs a hand over his face, chewing on his bottom lip. He wasn’t too clingy last Saturday was he? He didn’t say anything scary either like, wanting to adopt two babies or something so he doesn’t know what’s—

Ah. His mother at the clinic. The shouting match with his father. 

Did Lucas scare his boyfriend off with his fucked up family? 

He gets up from the lounge, determined to get to the bottom of this. There’s nothing he can do to fix it, sitting around making assumptions by himself. 

When Idris gets out of class sans Eliott, Lucas steps into his way and Idris jumps about a foot in the air at the sight of him. 

“Jesus!” Idris has a hand to his chest, steadily looking more and more afraid for his life the longer Lucas stares unblinkingly up at him. “Shit, I’m innocent, I swear!”

“So there really is something wrong then?” Lucas’ eyes narrow and he moves closer as Idris very visibly struggles for words. There’s something comical about the way the larger boy is trying his best to cower away from Lucas’ gaze but the latter isn’t in the mood to laugh at anything until he figures out what the hell’s up with Eliott. 

“Listen, Lucas.” Idris takes in a breath, glancing down at his phone in the same movement but the screen’s already darkened by the time Lucas instinctively looks as well. “Things are a little rough right now.”

“That’s not helping. Why did he lie to me?” 

Idris grabs his arm and moves them to a more secluded area, noticing the stares they’re beginning to attract. Lucas doesn’t know what he does but Idris lets out a pained groan when their eyes meet again. 

“Stop looking like that,” Idris says, fidgeting restlessly with his phone. 

“I can’t control my face,” Lucas retorts. “Did he say what I did?”

“Dude…” If conflict had a photo, it would be Idris’ expression right at this moment. “Talk to him. Please. It’s not,” he sighs, shaking his head. “Just talk, okay?”

“He’s not responding.”

“Fuck, make him respond.” Idris types something on his phone before he looks back out to the hallway. “I have to go. Talk to him, please,” he repeats his own words before leaving Lucas with no choice but to contemplate those obscure words by himself. 

And fuck, yeah, whatever, he’ll just go for it. Talk to him it is. 

 **lucallemant  
**Look, I know your project excuse is bullshit  
And even if it’s not, you kinda gave yourself away with that story   
Can you fucking respond to me already? I know you can read these

 **srodulv  
**Sorry, I just needed time to think

 **lucallemant  
**About? 

 **srodulv  
**Us  
I think it’s best if we don’t see each other for now 

 **lucallemant  
**You’re kidding right?

 **srodulv  
**No  
Sorry

 **lucallemant  
**Don’t fucking ‘sorry’ me  
Where the fuck are you we need to talk

 **srodulv  
**I don’t think that’s a good idea

 **lucallemant  
**I don’t give a shit Eliott I’m serious   
Either talk to me properly or there’s no ‘for now’  
We’re not seeing each other again ever

 **srodulv  
**I’m at home

 

* * *

  

Lucas can’t remember the last time he’s felt this livid. 

When Eliott opens the door to his apartment, Lucas shoves in without preamble. He’s a little startled to bump into Emir as he does so— Omar’s also at the side, slowly putting his shoes back on. The two boys don’t say anything, throwing acknowledging nods in Lucas’ way as they put on their jackets. On his way out, Emir shares a look with Eliott and it lasts the entire time it takes for Eliott to close the door back up.

An uncomfortable silence surrounds them once the lock clicks into place. 

“So?” 

Eliott turns to face him— he looks like shit. Or as shitty as Eliott can look anyway. Lucas still thinks he’s beautiful because _of course_ he’s fallen in love like the massive dumbass he’s always been. 

“I already told you over the phone.” 

“Well I don’t agree. I think it’s a stupid thing, not seeing each other and all. So convince me.” He’s trying his hardest to sound as confident as he wishes to be. 

“I’m just… not sure if we’d work out together in the long run.”

And _no_ , no no no. This isn’t happening to him. Not with Eliott. 

“No?” Lucas asks, ignoring the prickle in his eyes. He swallows once, twice— desperately hiding the catch in his breath, the shiver in his voice. “Cause you seemed pretty sure of it when you were fucking me last week.” His voice fails him, cracking in the middle of the sentence. “Is that just… did you just…?”

Eliott’s head snaps up, meeting his gaze _finally_. But Lucas isn’t sure he wants the contact any longer. Even so, he doesn’t turn away, desperation to fix whatever the fuck is happening between them right now takes priority over the anger simmering in his blood. 

“Lucas.” Eliott sounds wrecked by the implication. _Good_. Lucas hangs onto that last thread of hope. “Lucas, no. It’s not— fuck it’s not that _at all_. Please never—” Eliott cuts himself off, hands waving about in front of him. “Never think I— you’re more than that. To me, you’re so much more.” He shakes his head, stepping closer to Lucas. “It’s not you.”

Lucas laughs, harsh and humourless. “What the hell am I supposed to think when you’re over here, using that _it’s not you, it’s me_ bullshit? We’re not in one of your films, Eliott. I’m _real_ ,” he almost shouts the last word, wanting and _needing_ Eliott to understand. “So please, if you’re going to leave me, at least have the decency to give me a real reason.”

Eliott goes silent, eyes wide like a child caught in a lie. Lucas’ mind swirls at the raw emotion he sees there, doesn’t know what to think anymore when Eliott stands there looking at him like Lucas is holding his whole heart in his clumsy, unstable hands. And yet. _And yet_.

“I’m only going to hurt you, Lucas,” Eliott whispers, frozen in position just out of Lucas’ reach. “I’m the exact kind of person who can hurt you real bad.”

Well, he’s not wrong about that. “You don’t think you’re hurting me right now?”

“Not like this.” Eliott swallows. “It’s better to end it now before I…” He trails off, looking away, moving only to clasp his hands together. His thumbs run restless circles over the back of his own palms. 

“Before you what?”

“You won’t understand.”

“Try me.” 

Eliott stops his fidgeting, looking at Lucas with eyes so devastated he almost looks away, almost takes back his own words if only to remove that look permanently off of Eliott’s face. “I’m bipolar, Lucas,” he says, voice trembling as he continues, “I’ll never be able to give you the normal life you deserve.”

Once, when he was a kid, Lucas had jumped into a pool of water six feet deep, out of sheer misguided courage, in order to prove to himself that he was no coward. The way his world had shrunk into that little bubble of space underwater, and all he could hear was the endless nothingness of the water around him as he recalled everything he’d said and done that led up to that exact situation— it stuck with him. He can still feel it, intensely, the memory clinging to his fingertips. 

It’s strange how he comes back to that place, right now. He’s in Eliott’s apartment and he’s drowning. 

“Eliott,” he gasps out, forcing his head out of water, everything around him coming back to life. His own words from the last time they were together haunt him. The way he’d wished, out loud, for a _normal_ family. For _normal_ people in his life. “I didn’t mean it. God, I didn’t mean it like that.” 

“But you did,” Eliott says, his tone remaining kind. It kills Lucas inside. “And you’re right.”

“No.” Lucas wants to cover the distance between them but a conscious part of his brain tells him he no longer deserves that privilege. “I swear, Eliott, I didn’t mean it.” 

Eliott doesn’t look convinced. “Please, just go.” 

“No, not like this.” Lucas forces his feet to move forward, barreling past the invisible wall that’s begun to form between them. His hands slowly raise to cup Eliott’s face, his touch the most gentle it’s ever been. “Please understand. I… when I said I wanted a normal family, it’s got nothing to do with my mother, I _swear_. I would never trade my mama for anyone else but I would give _everything_ to have a— my dad,” he says in a rush, needing Eliott to _get_ him but he’s not sure he’s expressing himself clearly enough. He doesn’t _know_ how to explain himself. “When I said I wanted a normal life I meant that—” He chokes on a hiccuping sob, barely able to keep his tears at bay. But no, he’s not going to start crying now. It’s not about him. “If I could go back in time, I would change so much of my decisions from the past couple of years.”

Eliott softens but still shakes his head. “That doesn’t change the fact that I’ll be a burden for you eventually. I didn’t think it through before. You make me feel so good,” Eliott pauses, leaning into Lucas’ hands. “I was on such a high, I forgot I can’t keep you forever.”

“Why not?” Lucas tries to move closer but Eliott leans back. 

“Because everything is temporary,” Eliott says, removing Lucas’ hands from his face. “I don’t want to ever end up being one of the things you regret.”

“You’re not. You won’t be.” Lucas reaches for him again but Eliott brushes him off. 

“You only say that cause you’ve never seen me at my worst.”

“I don’t care.”

“How can you not care?!” Eliott pulls away completely, pacing the small space from the kitchen to the living room. “I can’t stand the thought of you crying and hurting like that every time I’m down or manic or _whatever the fuck_ my brain decides to force on me without any fucking warning. You know this shit gets ugly, right? I’m not just going to lay down and sleep it off for a couple of hours. Sometimes it takes an entire _week_ , Lucas. And I won’t always be quiet, I’m going to go off on you for no reason, I’m going to push you away—” Eliott stops for a breath, looking over at Lucas. “But you already knew that, didn’t you? Your mom does similar things sometimes, right? And the thing is your mom isn’t even with you all the time and it _still_ affects you so much. How would you react when _I’m_ the one losing my fucking mind?” 

Lucas shakes his head, stepping forward in a desperate bid to get through to Eliott. He doesn’t reach out this time, wringing nervous hands into his sweater sleeves as he shifts around trying to make Eliott look at him. “I can handle it,” he says when their eyes finally meet— Eliott’s gaze is steel but Lucas isn’t easily cowed. “We can handle it.”

“I don’t want you to handle it!” Eliott shouts back, sounding increasingly flustered by Lucas’ persistence. “You should take this as your warning and leave!”

“Well I don’t want to!”

“Why?!”

“Because!” Lucas takes time to breathe, closing his eyes as he reels his temper in. They’ll get nowhere, screaming at each other like this. “Because I’ve never felt anything like this before,” he says in a whisper. “Because I’ll also yell at you, I’ll also do stupid shit, also shut you out sometimes.” Lucas shrugs, looking up at Eliott helplessly. “But all I know is that everything inside me is telling me to keep you and I’m willing to fight for that. I _want_ to fight for that.” He runs a hand through his hair, running out of steam. “So if you think I’m giving up all of this. You. Us. Just because you think you’re not good for me, then you’re wrong. Relationships are a two way thing, Eliott. You can’t just make a decision like this for the both of us. Do you understand what I’m saying?” 

A heavy silence follows. Lucas sighs softly, unsure of what else to do to get his point across. 

Until Eliott mutters the most quiet, “I need time to think on it.” 

And okay, he’ll take that. He’s got time to spare. 

Lucas nods, moving towards the door. He’s pretty sure their conversation ends here. But before he leaves, he lingers by Eliott’s side, taking in his hunched shoulders, the way his eyes are trained on the floor. Everything about him screams defeated. 

“I’ll give you all the time you need,” he says, soft in the wake of their loaded words from earlier. “But know that I still want you in my life, Eliott.” He pauses, taking in a shuddering breath. “All of you.” 

He leaves it at that, walking out the door, out of the elevator, out of Eliott’s building. He doesn’t look back until he’s standing outside, breathing in the chilly evening breeze. He doesn’t realize he’s hoping for something to happen until his eyes are greeted by the empty foyer. There’s a stillness around him that could possibly be peaceful if not for the turmoil knotting in his chest. 

If anyone had told Lucas years ago that he’d be standing in front of a boy’s apartment building, hoping for a scene straight out of a romance movie to happen to him, he’d have laughed in their face until tears streamed down his eyes. 

And yet here he is, waiting. 

But Eliott doesn’t come to chase after him. 

    

* * *

 

Eliott misses school for two days the week following their talk, and then another two days the next week after— he only knows this because Idris takes it upon himself to keep him updated. On a Wednesday when Lucas doesn’t even have any classes to attend, he sees a glimpse of Eliott around campus. He’s surrounded by people, shoulders covered by that signature brown jacket that Lucas infuriatingly misses. 

Lucas wishes Eliott would see him, wishes so hard that they’d meet eyes across the field and for Eliott to smile that genuine smile of his, eyes crinkling at the corners. He wishes Eliott would look at him like Lucas is the only thing that matters again. 

“You okay?” Arthur nudges him with an elbow, following his line of sight. “How’s it going with you two?”

He shrugs, instinctively unlocking his phone. Eliott hasn’t sent him any messages for the past two weeks. Lucas wants to send something, of course, but he thinks Eliott should be the one to break the silence once he’s ready to go forward with their relationship. If he still wants to that is.

Lucas is starting to have his doubts. “Nothing.”

Arthur sighs, raising an arm to tug Lucas close. “He’ll come around.”

“Sure.” 

  

* * *

 

On the third week of silence, Lucas isn’t sure Eliott would ever come around.

“Lucas!” Erin rushes inside from the front house, startling Lucas from his gloomy thoughts. 

“Yeah?”

“There’s someone asking to see you.” 

His heart skips a beat, and he almost stumbles out of his seat in his haste to get up. It’s Friday and he’s only here to cover for someone else’s shift but it’d be the _best day ever_ if Eliott’s decided to end his suffering today.

Marco, their pastry chef, barks out a laugh. “Careful, kid.” 

“Yeah,” he responds absently, jogging forward to peer through the glass window of their kitchen door.

His heart plummets to the ground when he sees the person waiting by the counter. “Did you tell him I was here?”

Erin’s budding smile drops. “No, I only said I’d check, didn’t know if you went out for snacks or something.”

“Okay,” Lucas breathes out, bidding for his heart to slow its beating. “Okay. Please tell him I’m not here.” 

Marco shifts closer. “You okay? You want me to get rid of him?” 

“He’s a paying customer,” Erin mumbles, apology all over her features when her gaze meets Lucas’. 

Lucas appreciates the offer either way. 

“Damn.” Marco grumbles, running a hand over his chin. “Can you handle the front alone? I’ll keep Lucas here to help out with the baking.”

“You really don’t have to—”

“You look like you’re gonna pass out,” Erin interrupts before he can even finish his protest. “I’ll tell him you’ve gone home. He should go away in a few hours, right?”

Lucas isn’t sure about that but he doesn’t want to worry them. “Yeah.”

Erin pushes the door open and Lucas can faintly hear her lying to Raphael for him. 

God, what’s Raphael doing in the cafe? How does he know Lucas works here? 

He walks back to the couch with surprisingly steady steps, sitting down as his mind reels with possibilities.  What the fuck is Raphael doing, trying to barge back in his life like this? The rest of his break is spent panicking in silence but thankfully, it doesn’t bleed into his work when Marco tasks him with frosting the chilled cupcakes. They turn out pretty good, considering his experience in that area is nothing but sometimes watching Manon decorate her stress baked goodies. 

At eight o’clock, he has to reassure Marco that he doesn’t need to wait an extra two hours to give Lucas a ride home. The guy has been there since early morning, working overtime to complete a gigantic preorder for an event their customer has the day after. Besides, Lucas knows Marco’s children are waiting for him to get home before falling asleep, as Marco likes to very fondly remind them all the time. At ten o’clock, Erin lingers, kindly offering to take the bus with him until Lucas reminds her that he _walks_ home and urges her out with a simple reminder of that assignment she’s been procrastinating on for the past week. 

Alone in the cafe, Lucas doesn’t bother to hide the tremor in his hands. 

He calls Yann twice and gets voicemail for both before he remembers that his best friend’s taken off to Bordeaux straight after classes for a family reunion celebrating his grandmother’s birthday. Basile’s fallen asleep hours ago, according to their group chat, after having stayed up three days straight studying for an exam. Arthur would probably come for him but Lucas knows he lives too far away to arrive in time. Champ is waiting for Lucas back home, he can’t possibly waste more time hiding inside the cafe.

But standing at the welcome mat right in front of the door, Lucas gives in, admitting to himself that he’s scared out of his fucking wits. 

 **lucallemant  
**Eliott, I know I said I’d give you all the time you need  
And I mean it, you can have more right after this   
But please, can you pick me up at work?  
I need you please  
Please

He walks around aimlessly, barely registering his own movements as he cleans up everywhere, making sure everything is sparkling clean and wiped down at least three times before he gathers his things so he can lock up. He makes an aborted move towards the curtains which he’d flipped shut earlier, resisting the urge to check if Raphael is out there, waiting. 

It’s ridiculous, it’s been hours.

But he _knows._ He knows it’s not irrational.

His phone remains silent and a quick check on the app tells him he has no new messages waiting. 

Okay, fuck, that’s fine. It’s fine. He’ll be okay. 

He fishes the cafe keys out of his pocket and unlocks the door from inside. It’s dark when he steps out, almost pitch black in the late hour. The quiet around him is disturbing, the streets abandoned on a typical Friday night. Locking the door back up proves to be a hassle as his shaky fingers fail to slot the key in _twice._ Irritably _,_ he swats at his forearm— he doesn’t know if his brain is playing tricks on him or if there are ants crawling up his sleeves at the same moment. 

A couple more tries and the latch finally gives a satisfying click. Lucas stands there, breathing out slowly. It’s still quiet. So, so quiet he almost convinces himself he’s been freaking out over nothing.

Until he turns around and sees the worst mistake of his life. 

Raphael shakes his head, tall and imposing in his fucking _suit_. “You know I hate it when you lie to me, baby.” 

Lucas shutters, turns around quickly so Raphael doesn’t get a whiff of his effect on Lucas. If the bastard realizes how Lucas feels right now, it’s _over_ for him. He tries to leave without acknowledging Raphael, wanting to sprint back home but that won’t be a very good idea won’t it? With Raphael on his tail and all. His mind, slow as molasses, can’t come up with anything he can do to get away without revealing anything.

He hears footsteps coming up behind him, leisurely, like Raphael knows he’s got nowhere to go. 

“Come on now, Lucas. Don’t be so rude.” 

“What do you want?” If he’s going to be stuck here, he might as well deal with it. He gathers all the courage he can muster and turns to face Raphael, but his own voice sounds distant to his ears, as if he’s separated from his body somehow— a spectator of this hellish scene rather than a direct participant.

It’s been over a year since they’ve ended things, _on a terrible note_ , so Lucas doesn’t understand why Raphael would bother to come back. 

The man shrugs, standing a safe distance away, hands in his pants pockets. “I thought we could revisit that talk from before, you know?”

“No,” Lucas scoffs, his answer hasn’t changed and it would be a waste of their time.

Raphael rolls his head backwards with a deep, showy sigh. “Stop acting like a child. You’re in college now, Lucas, can we have an adult conversation about this?”

How fucking dare Raphael talk to him like that? Lucas won’t rise to the bait, he’s long been over this. He’s worked hard to fix everything Raphael tore down and yes, it’s a work in progress, but he’s healing. “Fuck off.” He starts walking again to god knows where— he’ll go back to campus or sleep in a fucking church if needed. 

It makes Raphael chuckle. “I see. That’s how it is now, huh?” He doesn’t seem to be following so Lucas ignores him. “Careful there, you’re turning into your mother, all mean and moody like that. I heard _crazy_ can run in the family, you know?”

Lucas has fireworks for temper. He’s learned to tone it down as he got older but the one thing that can set him off like nothing else is when people talk shit about his mama. Raphael knows that. Lucas _knows_ Raphael knows that. But he falls for it hook, line, and sinker.

He rushes back to where Raphael is standing, gripping the neatly ironed collars of his dress shirt to pull him down to Lucas’ eye level. “ _Don’t_ talk about her like that, don’t talk about her at all, don’t even _think_ about her, you _fucker_ ,” he hisses into the space between them, to which Raphael responds with a smile— unkind, predatory. Lucas knows what’s coming but he can’t seem to reign in the anger that makes him act on his most foolish thoughts. 

“Ah.” Raphael’s eyes light up like a demon in the night. “I knew you’d come to me.” His hands easily engulf Lucas’ wrists then, close as they are, and starts dragging him towards the parking lot. Lucas stumbles at first, unprepared for the change of pace but he forces his limbs to cooperate after a few heart stopping seconds. He digs his heels on the pavement, pushing back against Raphael with all his strength. The resistance only frustrates Raphael and Lucas barely has time to catch the angry look Raphael throws over his shoulder before he’s being pulled to the side of the building and slammed unceremoniously on the wall so that his back presses painfully against the rough bricks of the cafe exterior. “Stop making me angry, Lucas. I’m _serious_.”

“Then stop talking to me!” He yells back, impact behind his voice while also hoping for someone, _anyone,_ to pass by and hear him. “Let go!”

Raphael shushes him, soft and amused. Lucas’ stomach lurches and if he’d eaten anything at all he might’ve thrown up right then and there. The grip around him tightens, heavy shackles of flesh digging into delicate wrists and Lucas just about manages to hold back a whimper. “You know I don’t want to hurt you but you’re making things very difficult right now. Do you understand me?”

Lucas wants to cover his ears— he can’t deal with those words. Not now, not ever again. Not with that same gentle, _warning_ tone. A familiar bout of panic takes hold of him, all that time spent rebuilding himself flies out the window and suddenly he’s back to being sixteen, terrified but helpless under Raphael’s control. 

“You don’t…” He swallows, knowing he has to be brave. No one will protect him but himself. _No one_. His breathing picks up, vision darkening around the edges. No one, Lucas. _Fucking save yourself_. “You don’t get to talk to me like that.” It comes out as a whisper, too weak for what he’d been gunning for but the fact that he’s able to get the words out gives him strength. His vision’s no longer fading but he wonders why everything around him looks so damn blurry.  

“Shh,” Raphael hushes him and Lucas strikes his head against the wall behind him to get away from the warm breath near his lips. The movement should be painful but he feels numb to his core. “Oh come on, I’m sorry, baby. Please don’t cry.” Raphael uses one finger to brush against the wetness on Lucas’ cheek. Fuck, fuck, _fuck_ , when did that happen? “Come with me, I’ll make it better, okay?” 

 _No_. He’s going to say it out loud. Once he works up the courage. He’s going to. _He’s going to_. 

He doesn’t have to.

“Get the fuck off of him.” That cold voice is a welcome distraction from the suffocating conflict in Lucas’ head. Hearing it brings forth so much relief he barely registers everything that comes after. Through tear blurred vision, he watches Raphael stagger backwards as Eliott roughly pushes himself in front of Lucas, shoving Raphael towards the opposing wall.

“And who are you?” Raphael sneers, tone dripping acid. Lucas leans his forehead on Eliott’s solid back, desperately in need of an anchor. 

“None of your business,” Eliott responds, equally venomous. “Leave.” 

“I don’t think you understand, pal, but this is none of _your_ business,” Raphael intones, trying for a calmer approach. “He’s mine and he’s not feeling well right now, so can you please move and let me take care of him?” Lucas hears footsteps approaching but he closes his eyes, unwilling to see any more of that man.

Eliott stands his ground. “Nice try, _pal_ ,” Eliott practically growls out, and when Lucas opens his eyes again he sees Eliott’s hands clenched into tight, shaking fists. “You can fuck _right off_ or I swear to god.” 

Lucas doesn’t hear anything else— he brings his hands over his own ears and squeezes his eyes shut, waits it out until Eliott turns around and wraps him in his arms completely, so tight and all encompassing as if trying his utmost best to hide Lucas from the rest of the world.

“I’m here, I’m sorry I took so long, I’m so sorry, I have you, _I have you_ ,” Eliott whispers into his hair, barely audible above Lucas’ gasping sobs. He clutches onto Eliott’s jacket and tries to regulate his breathing but every attempt goes down the drain, washed over by the torrent of emotions rushing out all at once. For a single moment he wishes for that numbness from earlier back, if only so he doesn’t die of oxygen deprivation on the spot. 

Eliott tilts Lucas’ head sideways and presses him against his chest, taking slow, deep breaths that Lucas instinctively matches. Under the carefully timed breathing, Lucas can hear Eliott’s erratic heartbeat.

His wheezing tapers off, leaving him sniffling and coughing a little as a strange sort of calm takes over. Eliott, painfully gentle, runs his thumbs across Lucas’ face, wiping all traces of his tears. Lucas doesn’t know how to explain what just happened and he doesn’t think he _wants_ to explain, as a matter of fact. 

Thankfully, Eliott doesn’t ask. “I’ll take you home,” he says, glancing at Lucas carefully before the latter offers him a nod in response. 

Lucas pulls himself away from their embrace, missing the safety in Eliott’s touch but with his head slightly clearer, he remembers, acutely, the status of their relationship. After everything Raphael’s return has brought back, Lucas’s now hyper aware of what he’s asked of Eliott. God, Eliott must think he’s such needy garbage, sending a message like that. Isn’t that considered emotional blackmail? Even if Eliott’s lost his feelings for Lucas, reading a text like that would still make Eliott rush to the rescue. Lucas knows Eliott’s heart is just soft in that way. 

He’s glad the walk home is fairly short. He doesn’t want to keep Eliott later than he has to.

“Thanks,” Lucas says, walking numbly towards the building. Champ must be bored out of her mind. He hopes she ate well— she’s usually good at pacing herself even when he leaves a large amount of food outside when both he and Yann will be out for a long period but sometimes the dumbass gobbles it all down in one go. Hopefully there’s no vomit for him to clean up once he unlocks the door. 

Locks on the door.

How did Raphael know where Lucas works? Why did he leave without much of a fight when Eliott arrived? Is it because he also knows where Lucas lives?

Lucas unlocks his door, fiddles with the mechanism a little, and decides he’s going to go out and buy some extra locks just for good measure. Tonight, in fact. He has to do that tonight. He’ll take Champ with him so she can have a little walk as well. 

“Hey, how are you?” He murmurs into Champ’s fur when she wobbles over to him, not bothering to switch on the lights. She’s the only one he needs to see anyway. “Sorry, I know it’s late now but we’ll go for a walk, alright? I’ll buy you a snack too.” He clips the leash on her collar but bundles her tight in his arms as he goes back out. 

When he gets to the entrance, Eliott is standing right where Lucas left him. 

“Why are you still here?” He’s surprised he’s able to string together a proper sentence around Eliott, seeing as his heart has been shattering anew for every time he catches even the slightest glimpse of the boy for the past few weeks. Maybe there’s simply nothing left to shatter. “You should go home now.”

“Lucas,” Eliott’s voice sounds shaky. Lucas can feel Champ’s tail sleepily wagging at the sight of him. “Why are you not inside?”

“I have to buy something.”

“What are you buying? Can’t it wait til tomorrow?”

Lucas shakes his head. “I need new locks for the door.”

“What happened to your lock?” Eliott’s stepping closer, slowly, like how one would approach a spooked animal. 

“Nothing, I just want more.” Lucas has his eyes trained on the ground, counting the cracks on the cobblestone as he grapples for something, _anything_ to occupy his mind with. He can’t let it run empty or he’s afraid he’ll stop breathing. 

“Where’s Yann?” Eliott’s close enough to touch by now and he lifts a hand to pet over Champ’s little head. 

“At his parents’.” Lucas distantly notes that Eliott’s hand is trembling and he wants to hold them, keep them warm, but he’s not sure he’s allowed to. “You should go home, it’s only gonna get colder.” He thinks Eliott says something after that but Lucas misses it— everything around him seems so strange and muffled. He’s inside a glass container with only one eye peeking out. “What?”

“Lucas.” There’s a desperate note in the way Eliott says his name and Lucas isn’t sure what to make of it. He follows the way Eliott’s hands stutter midair, hovering close on either side of Lucas’ face but Eliott doesn’t touch him.  “Come back to me.” 

What does that mean? “I’m right here,” he responds, meaning for it to be a question but his tone falls as flat as everything else he’s been saying. 

Eliott shakes his head, distress loud in his eyes. There’s a voice inside Lucas’ head screaming for him to reach out and comfort Eliott, to erase that pained expression and to try his damnedest to make him smile. The glass around him shrinks protectively and Lucas doesn’t move a limb.

“Okay… okay, you’re sleeping over at mine tonight,” Eliott says, one of his hands flying up to run through his own hair while the other goes to his mouth, biting at his nails. 

“But Champagne…”

“She’s coming too.”

“Her stuff’s upstairs.”

“We’ll go get it.” 

Gathering everything Champ needs is a quick and quiet affair, with Lucas floating around grabbing anything that looks remotely like something a dog would own. Her food and water bowls are last to enter the bag. Lucas leaves feeling as if he’s forgotten something but the thought doesn’t stick, so he lets it go.

They walk to Eliott’s flat mostly in silence, partly due to Lucas missing half of what Eliott tries to tell him. He can see his lips moving but Eliott has to repeat twice, three times, before Lucas understands what’s being said. It’s a tiring exercise and Lucas doesn’t have anything to respond with anyway, much more content with burying his face into Champ’s soft fur, cuddling into her warmth despite of how small of a space she takes up. 

Once inside, he lets go of Champ to let her familiarize with the place while he stands immobile at the doorway, staring at the plant Eliott’s placed beside his bookshelf. It looks like it’s dying. Lucas would laugh but the notion dies before the thought even completes itself. 

“Hey.” Eliott’s close again and Lucas lets his eyes fall shut at the comfort of his presence. “Lucas? Lucas, are you with me?”

He’s exhausted. The walls around him are thickening, until he hears nothing but his own breathing.

Eliott sighs, and Lucas feels him brush the hair away from Lucas’ forehead before he shuffles off elsewhere. When Eliott comes back, it’s with a bundle of clothes in his arms and a gentle hand guiding Lucas to the bathroom.

Behind the closed bathroom door, Lucas is forced to face himself in front of the mirror. It’s a relief to find nothing outwardly amiss; his hair’s a little messy and his eyes a little red. But when he removes his clothes and sees the finger shaped bruises forming on his wrists, stark against the otherwise unblemished skin, the bubble around him breaks— sharp pieces of cracked glass lodge themselves under his skin, and he bleeds and bleeds from the inside. Everything around him is suddenly too loud, too bright, too much.

 _Come with me, I’ll make it better_. 

“No,” he whispers, hands sliding up to cover his ears, albeit futile, against the phantom words. He stumbles backwards and falls to the floor with a thud but Lucas barely notices the pain that shoots up his tailbone.

_Stop acting like a child and listen to me._

There are footsteps thundering from outside the room and a small part of him, the one that hasn’t completely lost its mind, recognizes it immediately. “Eli—” he begins to call out but a nagging thought stops him. No, he can’t ask for Eliott. He's got enough to deal with without Lucas adding on his own pile of bullshit. 

Where’s his phone? He needs to call his mama— wait no, she’s having a rough time already. She has to get better first and worrying about Lucas won’t be of any help. 

Yann. He’s probably not asleep yet, Lucas can try calling him again and—

Except Yann doesn’t know the entire story. Lucas had swept it all under the rug after telling his best friend a heavily edited version of how much Raphael had fucked him up. 

Fuck, he’s alone. He’s _alone_. How does he manage to always end up alone?

_I’m the only one you have._

“Lucas?” Eliott slams the door open and it startles Lucas enough that it silences the ugly memories running through his head. He looks up to the sight of Eliott frozen by the door, looking wholly unsure and slightly terrified and _god_ , Lucas can’t help it. Just a little bit. He just needs a little bit of Eliott to survive the night. 

“Eliott,” he croaks out, but he doesn’t get to say the rest when tears fill his eyes and spill out uncontrollably like a flooded dam. Eliott rushes to his side, gathering Lucas up in his embrace. In turn, Lucas latches onto him. He’s going to regret this tomorrow, he knows, but for now, he crawls into the space between Eliott’s arms and hides in the crook of his neck, searching for safety. “I don’t wanna go back,” he gasps out. “I _don’t_. Please don’t let me go back.” 

Eliott holds him that much tighter— the strength in his arms juxtaposes the waver in his voice as he says, “I’m here now. I got you. You’re never going back, I’m here. I’m _here_.” 

 _Are you?_ Lucas’ tears pour heavier, though he guesses that empty promises are better than no promises at all. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the apology from last chapter was actually a warning for this one


	12. Chapter 12

It's already long past noon, but he still wouldn't have woken up if it weren't for the constant stream of notifications coming from his phone. Yann's called about seven times and Manon twice. He's glad those two have kept his supposed disappearance to themselves though— he's really not up to dealing with more than that right now.

He turns over to lay on his back, wincing as he accidentally hits his hand against the desk by Eliott's bed. Taking stock of the injuries he’s managed to procure is only the natural step after— his wrists are sore, the slightest of twitches causing an uncomfortable burn under his skin, the back of his head is tender for a reason he only vaguely remembers, and his back is a bit achey from his fall in the bathroom. 

None of those are too much to handle. The main problem is that they make trying to forget about last night absolutely impossible.

True to his thoughts, Lucas already feels the beginnings of regret flooding up his chest, which has him bringing the blanket over his head with a quiet groan. It’d be a lie to claim that he recalls every clear detail of what went down but he's pieced together enough from last night's stellar shitshow to have him attempting his very best to cringe out of his own bones. 

There's no way in hell that he'd be able to face Eliott again.

Maybe that's for the best. It's only a matter of time before Raphael would get to Lucas again and he doesn't want Eliott deeper involved in that mess. 

Forcing his way out of the covers, he shivers as his bare feet touch the ground. The sweatpants Eliott's helped him into are big enough to go past his feet but he's not about to drag them across the dirty floors— he has to give these back at some point, preferably as clean as possible. He's keeping the jumper, though. Eliott doesn't seem to have any intention of returning the hoodie he'd taken from Lucas a month ago so it's only a fair trade. 

Following the sound of clacking dishes takes him to the kitchen where Eliott stands by the stove, staring forlornly down at his phone rather than the charred omelette on the pan. He trashes his half baked plans of sneaking out unseen for the sake of saving Eliott from a potential fire hazard. 

"Might wanna shut that off first," he says, startling Eliott out of his reverie. Champ turns the corner at the sound of his voice, tail wagging as she waddles over for some afternoon cuddles.

"You're up," Eliott says quite unnecessarily but he does turn the dial down for the stove, though it's a little too late to save the omelette. They stand opposite each other, the span of an entire living room between them as the unpleasant smell of burnt food wafts about. "Sorry, I tried to make breakfast— well, lunch now before..."

"That's fine, you don't have to, I was just leaving."

"What?"

Lucas grabs the bag with Champ's belongings off the ground— he'd been too out of it to protest the sleeping arrangements before but he's now lucid enough to worry about overstaying their welcome. He notices that her food and water bowls are set up near where Eliott stands; he must've fed her while Lucas had been asleep. 

With a resigned sigh, he walks over to the kitchen to hopefully grab them off the ground and leave the apartment as swiftly as possible.

But Eliott decides right then that it’s time to be difficult, snatching one of the bowls into his grip before Lucas has a chance to reach for it. "What do you mean you're leaving?"

Lucas pauses, baffled that Eliott's legitimately taking Champ's food bowl hostage. "I mean exactly that."

"No," Eliott protests with a firm shake of the head.

Lucas wordlessly holds out a hand, tilting his head to the side, unimpressed, as he purses his lips in obvious contempt. Eliott's eyes are wide, looking like he's desperately grasping for a reason to keep Lucas inside. On a normal day, Lucas would appreciate the effort, find it endearing even, but as it is he knows exactly what's going on here and he wants precisely  _none_ of it.

"I have to get ready for work."

Eliott drops the food bowl in the sink with an echoing clang. " _Fuck_  Lucas, you're  _not_ going to work, are you kidding me?” Gone is the deer in headlights expression— Eliott’s eyes are narrowed, irritation apparent in the way his mouth hangs open, hands spread out in a gesture of pure disbelief.

“Well you can't stop me,” Lucas says blandly, marching over to grab the bowl from the sink behind Eliott before turning around to make his leave. 

He’s only taken two steps away from the sink when Eliott's arm shoots out, slamming against the wall by Lucas' head to block his way out. Lucas doesn't flinch despite the almost deafening sound it causes, every cell in his body seemingly incapable of feeling anything but trust for the boy beside him. 

Eliott, however, jumps out of his own skin, removing his hand from the wall so quickly you'd think it's in flames.

" _Fuck_ , sorry." When their eyes lock together, stunned blues of varying emotion, Eliott looks terrified of Lucas' reaction, his hands hovering awkwardly in the space between them as if holding back from touching Lucas. "I didn't mean to do that."

And what the fuck is up with that? Lucas feels the surge of ire thrumming in his blood, indignant in the way he always gets whenever his capability to take care of his own shit, of  _himself_ , is being challenged. Not that Eliott is blatantly insinuating that Lucas can’t handle the aftermath of last night on his own but Lucas doesn’t want  _anyone’s_  pity, doesn’t want hesitant glances and whispered touches. The last thing he needs is for Eliott to treat him like fragile glass. He’s okay, he’ll be  _fine_ , he can deal with it.

He's about to lash out, tell Eliott exactly what he thinks about all of this, but Eliott honest to god looks like he's a hair’s width off from bursting into tears at the next sound of Lucas’ voice, venomous words or not. So Lucas clamps his mouth shut, drops the bag in his hand, and stomps back into the bedroom all the while causing as much noise as possible. To finish off his impromptu tantrum, he throws himself onto the bed with unnecessary force, face shoved into the pillows and back facing the door. 

Immediately after his body hits the mattress, he wants to turn around and apologize for acting out but Lucas clenches his eyes shut against the urge, scrabbling for the illusion of keeping everything under control. 

It's not long before he hears Eliott shuffling in after him, quicker until he feels the bed dip close to where he's laid down. 

"Sorry," Eliott repeats and Lucas can practically feel the stress radiating out of him. 

"Stop saying that," he muffles into the sheets, inexplicably wanting to cry now. God, he hates the rapid cycle of emotions he goes through after a scene like last night. The humiliation leading to anger, the helplessness leading to tears.

"But I am."

"You didn't do anything."

Eliott keeps silent. There's some rustling behind him but Lucas doesn't look over to see what all the noise is about. "Exactly."

It takes a moment for Lucas to remember what Eliott's responding to. "What?"

"I didn't do anything. I didn't text you, I didn't look for you, I didn—”

"Hey, what?" Lucas finally ends his futile mission to become one with the pillows and lifts his head off of them. "I said I'd give you time, you don't have to apologize for that."

"I had the time I wanted," Eliott confesses, swallowing. "But I wasn't..." He clutches at his shirt with one hand, frantically searches under the pillows with the other. "I was scared. I was scared that I took too long, that you don't care anymore—” 

Lucas opens his mouth to interrupt but Eliott shakes his head. 

"And I know, I  _know_  that's not the case but my shit brain just does something and I can't..." He shrugs, hands folded around a small, black notebook he pulls out from somewhere inside the crumpled sheets. Lucas belatedly realizes that it's being pushed towards him. He sits up then, flipping through the pages at Eliott's silent prompting. 

The first page greets him with a raccoon holding a phone, with the messages reading 'Meet at the bridge, 13h? I miss you so much' on the screen.

"Is this…" Lucas trails off, eyes flickering between Eliott and back down to the notebook. 

"Everyday, I woke up and thought of how I'd approach you." Eliott smiles a little, and it’s like the hope of day on a long winter’s night, the sun peeking out of the storm clouds the both of them have been wading through. Lucas wishes he has the capacity to return it. "But a minute would pass, an hour maybe, sometimes I won't make it out of bed, sometimes I will but I'd take one step to where I knew you would be or I'll start typing up a message for you and, well, I don't do it." 

Lucas continues looking through the pages, each one a different scenario but each one ending the same— with a raccoon and a hedgehog smiling together. His heart clenches for every single strike of ink on paper but he comforts himself with the thought that somewhere out there, other versions of themselves had this. Somewhere out there is a Lucas and an Eliott who had the courage to reach past their uncertainties and fight for the other like how Lucas had intended, but failed quite spectacularly to. 

He pauses at a drawing of the hedgehog playing the piano with the raccoon peeking out from behind the curtain— it’s dated for Friday. Lucas remembers Idris had given him a triangle on Thursday (Lucas hadn’t managed to pry a straight answer out of  _why_  Idris had it in the first place), asking if he can return it to the orchestra’s backroom since Lucas’ Friday classes are closer to the building than his.

Eliott’s quiet beside him, so still as he watches Lucas go through his most private thoughts and Lucas gradually loses the itch under his skin, the urgent need to leave and cope with his overwhelming feelings all alone. 

What if. What if Eliott had gone through with his plan and intercepted Lucas at the theatre? Then Lucas wouldn’t have picked up that call from work. He would never have accepted to cover that shift on Friday. Raphael wouldn’t have found him at the cafe. Maybe Lucas wouldn’t have had to see him ever— 

 _It’s okay_ , he tells himself, breathing shallowly through his mouth. There’s something lodged in between his ribs, close to where his heart is beating a stampede of sound from the sheer terror the memory brings up.  _You’re okay_.

“Last night,” he says, voice so soft he knows Eliott can barely catch his words. But he hopes it’s enough, because he doesn’t think he’s capable of speaking any louder. “That was Raphael—” He clears his throat, working past the scratchy lump that forms. “Before Raph—” His eyes shut tight, forcing his thoughts to align into some semblance of sense.

Eliott’s hand on the sheets between them twitches quite obviously but it makes no further movement towards Lucas.

Lucas takes in a deep breath, shaking his head. He’s going to start over. “During my first year in high school, my parents separated.” It’s a relief to finally wrangle a proper sentence out of his ragged mind. “Dad didn’t want anything to do with me or mama anymore but all the built up stress from it got mama really bad.” He runs a finger over Friday’s drawing one more time before carefully closing the notebook, unconsciously clutching it to his chest. “She was at her worst then and I didn’t really know how to make it better.” 

Eliott’s hands are now fisted in the sheets. Lucas knows he’s holding back from diminishing the tentative space between them and Lucas isn’t quite sure whether he hates or appreciates the effort. 

“Dad decided to send her off to a clinic but that meant I’d have to live with him and I  _hated_ him so I… ran off to drink all my problems away.” There’s an aborted noise of protest from beside him and Lucas doesn’t need to look over to know what expression Eliott must be wearing right now. “I know it was a fucking dumbass move but I wasn’t thinking right.” He shrugs, leaning back against the headboard and closing his eyes as he recalls that night— the one night in his life that he’d gladly remove from existence should he have the power to do so. “I ended up in a gay bar, didn’t know what it was at the time but they let me in without ID so.” 

“What the  _fuck_ ,” Eliott exclaims with feeling. And yeah, Lucas gets it. If he looks extremely young now, Eliott’s mind is probably running ahead of himself at the thought of  _sixteen year old Lucas_  being allowed anywhere near any bars alone. That bouncer’s kind of messed up now that he thinks back on it. 

“Yeah, so there wasn’t much trouble getting free drinks out of there. Raphael was the only one who didn’t buy my bullshit.” His eyes remain closed, hoping to stop the telltale signs of tears beginning to gather behind his lids. “He found me an hour in and stuck with me the rest of the night, fending off everyone else and making me drink  _water_. Fuck.” He swallows, tilting his head up towards the ceiling. He’s losing the battle against those stubborn tears. “So my drunk ass poured out my entire life story to him and he offered a spare room in his apartment. My knight in shining armour,” he finishes off bitterly. 

When Lucas turns to look at him, Eliott’s moved closer, as if pulled inevitably close by an invisible force as strong as gravity itself. Eliott’s jaws are clenched and his attention is focused intensely on Lucas.

“And— and we weren’t a thing, for a while,” he resumes when Eliott doesn’t say anything. “Because there was Anthony.” Another one in his stupidly massive list of horrible choices. “Met him after convincing Raphael to take me to one of his college parties.” He shakes his head, rolling his eyes at his younger self’s utter idiocy. “He was my first, didn’t last long though. Fucked me and left.” Eliott flinches at that and Lucas sees him fidgeting with his shirt from his peripheral. “He said we weren’t together, that it’s what grownups call a hook up. It hurt, I felt like shit, you know? But Raphael was there.” 

And fuck fuck fuck, why is it getting more difficult to speak now? He’d been doing so well. 

“Raphael was my fucking  _friend_ , I trusted him  _so much._ ” Hisvoice now thick with unshed tears, Lucas turns his head in the opposite direction of Eliott so that he doesn’t catch any of his reactions until the end. “He took care of me, supported me through coming out, was always there when I needed him— Yann? Yann knew him. They met each other and… and…” He takes in a calming breath. “And when he kissed me I thought things are finally working out for me. It was so  _good_  at the start.” 

And that’s where it hurts the most— the fact that Raphael had given him both the familial and romantic love he craves, only to pull the proverbial rug right out from under him with a flourish of the reality Lucas has been so avid to escape. It’s cruel, really. Lucas, to this day, doesn’t know what he’s done to deserve it. 

“But it went to shit pretty fast. He’d get angry at everything that didn’t go his way. He didn’t like me hanging out with the guys too much. He was convinced  _Arthur_  had some sort of plan to steal me away.” Lucas shakes his head slowly, seeing the signs so clearly now that he’s voicing them out loud. He still remembers the giant ensuing argument he and Yann have had over his prolonged absences, which only drove Lucas further away from them, defensive as he’d been at the time. “Every time I’d fight back, he’d threaten to leave. And I couldn’t have that, there was nowhere else I could go. He was… he was the only one I had.” 

There’s a soft tugging on the sleeves of his borrowed jumper and Lucas turns into the movement, allowing Eliott to pry the notebook away from Lucas’ death grip before he’s pulled in for the most delicate of embraces. Silent tears spill out the moment he’s surrounded by Eliott’s arms and he buries his face into Eliott’s shirt, words half muffled into the fabric as he continues, “I was so scared. I was scared to be with him, I was scared to  _not_  be with him. I did anything he wanted, I gave him  _everything_. It was the only way to get him to stay.”

Eliott lifts him off the bed a little, drags him impossibly closer— and then closer still, until Lucas is sprawled on his lap, arms settled gingerly over Eliott’s shoulders as his legs slowly curl into a more comfortable tangle against Eliott’s thighs. The abruptness of it all has Lucas gasping but he’s glad Eliott’s no longer handling him like a breakable China doll. 

“Shit, sorry!”

Or maybe he’s spoken too fast.

Eliott backs off, floundering as his hands travel from low on Lucas’ waist and then up to the sides of his face. It ends with Eliott shaking his hands completely off of him, leaving them suspended in the air as if anything else would be an act of crime. 

Lucas unlocks his arms from around Eliott’s neck, reaches up to intertwine their fingers together, and brings Eliott’s hands firmly over either side of his face. “I’m not scared of you.” He hopes Eliott understands that he means it in more ways than one. 

“No?” Eliott asks, finally relaxing into their close proximity. 

“No.” With a pathetic sniff, he pulls his sweater sleeves over his knuckles and wipes roughly at his face, tired of crying already. But Eliott stops him, taking it upon himself to tenderly brush the tear tracks away from Lucas’ cheeks.

They settle into a brief silence, with Eliott leaning forward until their foreheads touch, and Lucas slumps into him, clutching at the arms resting over his neck. 

“I meant it last night,” Eliott says, dragging soft hands down to Lucas’ chin, which he tilts up in hopes of having their eyes meet. Lucas stubbornly keeps his gaze down. “He’s never getting you back.” 

It’s hopeless. There’s something about Raphael that Lucas is programmed to follow. No matter which direction he runs, every path seems to lead back to him. “He’s gonna get to me, he always does.” 

Eliott shakes his head. “You’ve left once before, you can do it again.”

“That’s the thing, Eliott.” Lucas tries to squirm out of their embrace but Eliott doesn’t let him, arms around his shoulders keeping him in place. “He had to go abroad for his last year in uni and there was no legal way for him to force me into going with him. I didn’t exactly leave, I just waited for an easy way out.” Eliott’s arms are immovable despite Lucas’ best efforts so he stays put with a resigned sigh. “Now he’s back and he’ll pull the same shit on me all over again.” 

“No,” Eliott says firmly. “It’s not the same. This time, I’m right here.”

Lucas’ eyes slide upward, wavering as a fresh batch of tears threaten to fall. “You can’t fix it. You can’t fix me.” 

“No, just like you can’t fix me,” Eliott whispers, tugging Lucas’ chin back up when he starts looking down again. “But there was this beautiful boy who came to tell me off a while ago.” His nose brushes softly against Lucas’ and the latter closes his eyes, revelling in the gentle gesture. “He said he’s willing to fight for me, can you believe the audacity?”

Lucas feels his own lips dipping into the beginnings of a smile. “He sounds stupid.” 

“Brave, actually. He’s so brave.” Eliott runs a hand through Lucas’ hair, cupping the back of his head as he does so. “You know who’s stupid?”

Lucas lifts his head with a final touch to the tip of Eliott’s nose. “Who?” 

“Me. For taking so long to decide that I’m never letting this boy go. I’ll do everything to fight for him too. We can’t magically fix each other, but we can damn well help each other through the shitty downs, yeah?” 

The hint of a smile playing at his lips becomes full grown, and Lucas is starting to feel more at ease, more like his usual self, as Eliott nuzzles sweetly into the crook of his neck. “Do I know this boy?”

“You might.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhm, kinda looks like you, actually. Just as hot.” 

“Stop that,” Lucas laughs, letting himself fall backwards onto the bed. Eliott catches him at first, holds him halfway off the surface as he sits there leaning over with his face buried in Lucas’ hair. 

“Fuck, it’s good to see you smile. I missed it so much. I missed  _you_  so much,” Eliott mutters into Lucas’ temple before letting their bodies fall all the way into the sheets. 

“I missed you too,” Lucas says, pulling Eliott close by the neck. “Please don’t leave me again.” 

Eliott takes in a deep breath. “I won’t.” He presses a kiss to Lucas’ exposed collarbone, the loose material of the jumper riding off one shoulder. “I won’t.” 

   

* * *

 

“I wanted to bash his head in,” Eliott says into the silence. Lucas doesn’t know how long they’ve been lying on the bed, entangled, doing nothing else other than basking in each other’s presence. “I would have, if I didn’t feel you pressed up right behind me.” 

Lucas tightens his arms around Eliott’s shoulders, one hand travelling up to bury itself into the unruly mess of hair resting against his chest. “Don’t do that, he’s an apprentice lawyer, he’d probably find a way to put you into jail.” 

“ _Fuck_.” Eliott sounds genuinely upset and when Lucas pulls his face up to confirm, Eliott, indeed, looks like he’s absolutely seething— as if the thought of being unable to commit violence against Raphael is so unbearable. 

“It’s over,” Lucas says, running a soothing finger down Eliott’s jaw. “Don’t think about it anymore.”

“How? How do you just move on from that?” Eliott’s on a roll now and Lucas nudges them both on their sides, cuddling into Eliott’s open arms in the hopes of alleviating some of his fury. Eliott wraps around him tightly but continues on, “I was so scared when you— I didn’t know what was happening, Lucas. I don’t ever want you to go through that again.” The last part is said in a whisper, like an afterthought Eliott hadn’t meant to reveal. 

Lucas thinks about it, pressing closer into the body beside him until the top of his head bumps gently against the underside of Eliott’s chin. 

When Raphael gets too rough, when his words strike too deep, when the pain feels too much, Lucas likes to imagine himself as another Lucas from a different universe. Maybe a smarter, more carefree version who studies in Berkeley. That Lucas’ biggest problem is keeping his grades up for his scholarship while keeping himself down for the best campus parties at the same time. He’d get so deep in his head that it takes him out of the moment, a delusion of refuge that brings the most temporary of comforts. That’s probably what his brain had tried to do last night but Lucas hasn’t done it in so long that his higher functions failed to connect the dots. 

“Lucas number 4567.” 

“Hm?” Eliott’s hands stutter in their rhythmic circling over Lucas’ back. 

“Everytime I have to make a choice, there are infinite other versions of me who choose the paths I didn’t take, so between all of us, every possible outcome can happen.” Shrugging is a little bit of a challenge from his current position, but he gives a valiant effort either way. “When my choices take me to hell, I picture another me, at the same time in a different universe, who made the better decision.” He fiddles with the neck of Eliott’s shirt, tracing the loose threads forming little knots at the seam. “It feels better that way, knowing that somewhere out there, a Lucas has gotten it right.”

“What’s Lucas 4567 up to, then?” Eliott humours him, resuming the shapeless figures he traces over Lucas’ shoulder blades. 

“He doesn’t go to a bar that night, he sticks around in his house and sulks.” 

“Yeah?”

“Mhm, then he takes Manon’s offer to give him her room and he stays there at the apartment with her idiot roommates.” 

“Damn, I should make a movie out of that.”

Lucas chuckles, “What’s it gonna be about? An hour of him laying in bed watching Netflix?” 

“No,” Eliott snorts, shaking Lucas in reprimand. “Eliott 4567 transfers to his high school and sweeps him off his feet.”

“I don’t think Lucas 4567 is the sweepable type.”

“Shut up, Eliott 4567 will try his best.” 

“And then?” Lucas clenches his jaw against an incoming yawn, warm and cozy as he is in the circle of Eliott’s arms. 

“And then Eliott 4567 saves him from the villain. Except the plot twist is that Lucas 4567  _himself_ is the villian— the lies and thoughts he’s forced himself to believe anyway.” 

“That’s deep.” Fluttering eyes finally give in to the weight of exhaustion, and Lucas lets loose the yawn he’s been holding back. “What next?”

“They fall in love.” Eliott brushes Lucas’ hair back, leaning in to give his boy a tender kiss on the forehead. “And Lucas 4567 saves Eliott 4567 right back.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes this gained a chapter 16, don't @ me


	13. Chapter 13

“If I lose this lighting and ambiance, I swear to god,” Abe calls out from his perch on the staircase behind Eliott, camera casually hanging in his hand by the lens. “You guys will literally see each other in a few hours, this is ridiculous.” 

His ranting goes ignored and Lucas tries his hardest not to spare him a glance, keeping his eyes locked with Eliott’s while they both act as if Abe’s voice is a mere gust of wind. He nibbles on the inside of his lip to keep from bursting out laughing.

“He’s got a point.” Lucas smirks up at Eliott, who still looks a tiny bit dazed in the early hour. 

“I don’t care,” Eliott says softly, hands lifting to run his thumbs across Lucas’ cheeks. “I’ll miss you either way.” 

So they’re really becoming _that_ kind of couple. Ah well, Lucas can’t find it in himself to care. “Me too.” 

Eliott leans down, knocking their foreheads together. “I’ll most likely get back before you but do you have the spare key just in case?” 

Lucas nods, eyes closed. Their noses brush together sweetly and the warmth of Eliott’s breath is a comfort in the midst of the chilly morning air.

“Okay, I’ll see you in a bit then,” Eliott says, but he still doesn’t make a move to leave. 

Lucas’ pleased smile turns into a fit of giggles when Abe exclaims profanities in the distance. 

“ _Jesus_ ,” Eliott whispers between them and then, “I’m coming, quit fucking whining already!” is shouted over his shoulder. It does nothing to taper Lucas’ laughter. 

“The setting, Eliott, the _setting_!” Abe shouts back quite desperately. Lucas takes pity on him even if Eliott doesn’t, and steps back from Eliott’s arms. The latter pouts at this, making Lucas coo and pinch his cheeks adoringly until his hands gets pulled away. 

“I’ll come straight home from mass,” Lucas promises, sliding his hands out of Eliott’s tight grip. 

“No, don’t do that.” Eliott shakes his head, reaching over to fix the jacket on Lucas so that the right side is no longer drooping off his shoulder. “Take her out for lunch or something, you guys deserve some bonding time, I’ll try to survive by myself,” he finishes off with a dramatic sniff. 

Lucas laughs, arms climbing up to pull Eliott into another hug. He can hear Abe’s disgruntled ‘oh for god’s sake’ and it only prompts Lucas to lengthen their embrace. “Okay, have fun with your demanding photographer.” 

Eliott rolls his eyes as they pull back. “This is free labour, do you know how much other people would pay to take pictures of this face?” 

It’s Lucas’ turn to roll his eyes. “Careful with the ego there, Mr. Instagram Famous, you might hit your head on the way out.” 

“I might hit you myself if we don’t get going,” Abe says from beside them, having apparently come closer to physically break them apart seeing as his words just aren’t cutting it. “Say hi to your mom for us, Lucas. Also ask her to pray for this guy right here, he needs it.” 

Eliott decks Abe on the shoulder, turning to quickly drop a kiss on top of Lucas’ head. “See you back home, baby.”

Lucas flushes, watching Eliott and Abe bicker as they walk away. The thing is, Eliott probably doesn’t even realize what he’s just said but here Lucas stands, all sorts of dizzy as the words _see you back home_ repeat over and over in his head— a broken record he doesn’t want to fix. 

Either way, slip of the tongue or not, it feels good to have Eliott imply that Lucas has a home with him. 

Eliott looks over his shoulder to where Lucas is rooted right where they left him. He shakes himself out of the dumb expression he’s most likely wearing, only for a big, dumb smile to split across his face when Eliott sneakily gives him a dumb little wave. Lucas waves back, just as dumbly. 

 

* * *

 

Not many people attend the morning mass, and his mama explains that it’s because nobody wants to get up early on a Sunday, which, yeah _relatable_. Apparently neither does she, but the afternoon mass coincides with her book club meeting and she absolutely does not want to miss out on that.

Lucas sips on his iced coffee, wondering how he’s managed to surround himself with a bunch of nerds. 

“It’s really a pity you don’t read,” she says, making Lucas choke on the ice cube he’d been rolling in his mouth. “You’re really missing out on an experience.” 

“I read!” he huffs, indignant in the face of his mother’s amused smile. 

“Okay, honey,” she says, placating.

“I do!” 

“The textbooks your professor make you read don’t count.”

“Don’t be such a snob,” he scoffs, pretending to scowl at the laughter slipping light and airy out of her lips. He hasn’t had the chance to visit her since that last disastrous time, so caught up with his own issues as he’d been. It’s a relief to see her doing so well, though. There’d be hell to pay if his father had sent her back on a downwards spiral. 

“Has your dad reached out to you regarding the transfer?”

Lucas’ head whips up and he thinks he hears something snap actually but that doesn’t matter. “You’re going through with the transfer?!”

“No, dear.” She reaches out and brushes the hair away from his outraged face. “But I wouldn’t sign the papers so I figured he’d try to go to you.”

“He did,” Lucas grumbles, chewing at the edge of his straw. “I threw them back at his face.”

“Lucas.”

“What? He deserves it.” He’s glad they’re sitting on the outside benches of the cafe so he doesn’t have to watch the volume of his voice too closely. “He was an asshole about it too, so.” 

They lapse into a brief silence and Lucas slurps at the remainder of his drink while his mama picks at her sandwich.

“Don’t carry that anger in your heart, Lucas,” she says eventually, “you can’t do that forever.” 

Lucas stares down at his own hands. “How can I not? How can _you_ not?”

“All we can do is live our own lives to the best of our abilities, God will handle the rest.” 

“Yeah, well, _God_ is taking too long to handle anything.” There should be a special place in hell for people like his father. For people like Raphael. So how come they’re still out there walking around living better lives than the people they’ve hurt? Lucas doesn’t get it— especially doesn’t get how his mama can seemingly forgive his father in a blink of an eye. 

“Do you know what happens if you let those kinds of thoughts fester?” She sets her fork down on the side of her plate, the salad that comes with the sandwich left untouched. She’d always hated her vegetables, a fact that he’d found hilarious back when he was a child being forced to eat _his_ vegetables. “You’d only hurt yourself in the long run.”

Lucas lifts his eyes to where she’s already looking back at him, gaze soft. “So?”

She shakes her head. “Not _so_ , Lucas. If you’re angry about something like this for a long time, you start thinking of ways _you_ could have avoided the experience. You start blaming _yourself_ for making the decisions that lead up to it.”

“Mama, it’s not your—”

“Yes, yes, it’s not my fault that your father turns out the way he is, but I can’t help thinking that way sometimes. Your thoughts are your own worst enemy.” Small hands gently lay on top of his on the table and Lucas hasn’t realized that he’s clenched them into tight fists. “Because it’s the only thing you can’t ever escape from. _That_ is what happens when you hold onto hatred, onto anger. It’s never gonna get better that way.” 

“What, I’m supposed to just forgive them?” He doesn’t even realize his slip until her eyes turn sharp, and she’s silent for a beat too long as Lucas swallows. It’d be too suspicious to correct himself now so he leaves it be. 

“No,” she speaks low and careful. “You can start by forgiving yourself.”

“And what if you can’t do that either?”

Her thumbs brush soothing strokes over the back of his hand. “Then you work on it,” she says, “it might be a slow process, but you work on it, honey.” Her smile is radiant despite the obvious worry in her eyes. “Day by day.” 

 _Day by day_ , he repeats in his head, letting out a huge exhale. 

“Tell me one thing, Lucas.” The hardened tone in her voice has him looking up immediately. “Those clothes you’re wearing aren’t yours.” He sputters, mind racing to form half-assed excuses. “ _Don’t_ try to deny it, young man. You’re swimming in them.” 

“It’s… a fashion statement!”

“Don’t lie to me.” 

His mouth zips shut. 

“So this boy.” Her eyes run up and down the length of his jacket as if she has some kind of special motherly x-ray vision that would allow her to see Eliott through them. “Is he the one to make you cry?” The look in her eye is nothing short of murderous.

Lucas shakes his head quite violently. “No!” He’s hoped the evidence of his tears from the past two days have disappeared by now but he guesses he can’t really hide anything under the watchful eyes of his mama. 

“Okay.” She doesn’t press, which he’s eternally grateful for.

“Yeah.”

“So when am I gonna meet him then?”

“ _Mama_.”

 

* * *

 

Lucas heads back to Eliott’s place when his mother leaves for her book club meeting. He’d pretended to huff and puff about her ditching him for her nerdy sci-fi loving friends but in the end, he’s just glad she’s found something to occupy her time— a lot of somethings actually. There’s nothing more important to him than seeing the light in her eyes as she talks, and laughs, and lives her life. 

Well, maybe there’s something just as important.

There’s music playing from the speakers in the kitchen, too soft for him to hear from the doorway, but he does hear the clinking of utensils together which, in other circumstances, would bring forth a feeling of comfort. However, considering who exactly is in the kitchen right now, it bodes more ominous than anything else. 

“What are you doing there?” Lucas hangs Eliott’s spare keys by the door, chucking his jacket off as Eliott guiltily turns around. He’s hiding a pot of something behind him and now that Lucas is paying attention, he notices a strange metallic smell emanating from it. “Oh no, you are leaving this kitchen right now, sir.”

“It’s _my_ kitchen,” Eliott retorts indignantly and Lucas can’t believe this guy is a whole two years older than him. He bunches his sleeves up to his elbows, prepared to bodily shove Eliott out of the general vicinity if that’s what it takes.

“Yes, it’s your kitchen and you’re going to burn it down with your little experiments so please,” Lucas explains patiently, “step away from the stove and I’ll figure out what we can eat, hm?”

“I don’t want cheese bread.”

Lucas laughs, head thrown back as he swats at Eliott blindly. “You’re never letting that go, are you?”

“Nope.” There are hands slowly sneaking up his sides but Lucas twists away from them, cheekily biting his lip as he dances around Eliott to switch the stove off. “No, don’t!” Eliott protests, easily intercepting when Lucas tries to peek into the mysterious pot of gurgling liquid. 

“I just wanna see!” But Lucas’ attempts are useless, even more so when a laughing Eliott grabs him by the waist and deposits him, pouting and arms crossed, on the kitchen counter. 

“You don’t wanna see it, trust me.” Eliott finally admits, pinching Lucas’ nose fondly when he continues to pout. “We’ll just order some take out, okay?”

Lucas hums, stretching up to place his arms around Eliott’s neck, intending to pull him closer, but he’s forgotten to unroll the sleeves of his hoodie and Eliott’s eyes lock onto the exposed skin of his wrists. Bruises on him always look their worst two days into forming and these ones are no different— the mottled blues and purples are admittedly distracting and even Lucas winces at the sight of them. 

The mirth in Eliott’s eyes is quick to dull and Lucas can’t begin to guess what’s going through his mind. 

“Hey.” He pulls Eliott’s chin up, smiling in hopes of relieving the displeased furrow between Eliott’s brows. The expression pinches at his heart. “It doesn’t even hurt anymore.” 

“Okay,” Eliott whispers, and Lucas thinks he only says it for Lucas’ benefit. Eliott brings his wrists up and gently places his lips over the bruising, tiny little pecks that send warm speckles straight to his chest. “How’s your mom?” 

“She’s good.” Lucas loosely curls one leg around Eliott’s waist to tug him in, shaking out his arms so that the sleeves fall loosely down to the tips of his fingers. It’s easier to lift his hands and run them through Eliott’s hair this way, when all he can see is the dark fabric of Eliott’s hoodie rather than unwelcome reminders of what’s passed. “Still busy with her book club, I don’t know how they manage to read that many books in such a short time,” he snorts. “Oh, and she attends culinary lessons now.”

“Really?” Eliott says, raising an eyebrow when Lucas looks up at him with a teasing grin. 

“Yup, maybe you should join her, it’d be for the greater good.”

Eliott’s eyes form adorable curves as he laughs. “But I don’t cook for the greater good.”

“Hm, okay, for _my_ good then.” Lucas scratches along the back of Eliott’s head, smiling when his boyfriend leans into the touch, emitting a pleased groan. 

Boyfriend. He can use that term again, right? 

It’s a stupid thing to be thinking about, propped up on the counter with Eliott’s hands anchored around his thighs, standing so close as if a single inch between them would cause physical pain. 

Eliott’s phone buzzes near where Lucas is seated and the latter reaches over, laughing when he sees Idris’ name multiple times on the notification banner. Eliott reacts similarly and then confusingly ends it in a groan— Lucas shoots him a quizzical glance but Eliott just shakes his head and thunks his forehead on Lucas’ shoulder. 

“Forgot I said I’d go shopping with him for his sister’s birthday,” Eliott mumbles, turning to bury his face into Lucas’ neck. “Can you cancel on him for me?” he continues, teeth tickling at the skin there, causing Lucas to shiver. He can feel Eliott starting to smile, breath warm as he kisses the spot he’d nipped and, _okay_ , this needs to stop _now_ before his boyfriend-slash-not-boyfriend gets any more ideas.

“That’s rude,” Lucas says a little too loudly, flailing as he tries his best to open up Eliott’s phone without dislodging him. Eliott’s full on chuckling by now and Lucas doesn’t appreciate this being at his expense, thank you very much. “You should go if you promised.” 

“I didn’t _promis_ e—”

Lucas gives him a look. 

Eliott sighs, “I just wanna be with you.” 

How dare this man child be so adorable? “I can go with you guys if it’s okay with him.” 

Eliott lights up at the suggestion. “Yeah! He’ll be fine with it, he really likes you. It’s a little worrying, honestly.”

Lucas laughs, meaning to fire back with a teasing, _better watch out then_ , but when he unlocks Eliott’s phone, the screen it opens up to isn’t the chat with Idris and Eliott— it’s to Lucas and Eliott’s chat, where the messages from Friday remain to be the last thing that’s been sent. Lucas remembers seeing Eliott frequently looking down at his phone yesterday and this morning whenever he thinks Lucas isn’t paying attention. He’d assumed that Eliott had been reading up on his classes online or something and definitely not, well, whatever’s going on here.

“Eliott.” He taps on Eliott’s shoulder, making him look up from where he’s breathing softly against the side of Lucas’ neck. The loss of Eliott’s warmth isn’t exactly ideal but there are more pressing issues at hand. “Why do you keep looking at these?” He turns the phone around, watching Eliott’s expression morph from its content daze to a quick curtain of vacancy. “Hey, don’t do that,” Lucas says, running his thumb under Eliott’s downturned eyes. 

“I don’t know,” Eliott mutters, moving to grab his phone from Lucas’ hold but Lucas pulls away, hiding it behind him. “I can’t stop thinking about it. Fucking… Eliott 3259 probably had his phone switched on and— and Eliott 9867 would already _be there_ waiting to walk home with his Lucas before closing. Number 5437 would have, I don’t fucking know, convinced his Lucas out of working that shift. I can’t stop thinking of everything I could have done differently. Of everything that _would have_ happened differently if I were a better version of myself—”

Lucas uses his free hand to grab the back of Eliott’s head, arching up into him to bring their faces close together as he wordlessly shakes his head, their eyes locked on each other. It works to slow Eliott down and Lucas can feel him exhaling through his nose.

“What if something like this happens again, Lucas? What if 2 weeks, 2 months, 2 years from now, you need me and I’m not there? What if I _can’t_ be there? What if next time, I’m too late?” Eliott says, quiet words pouring out in the small space between them. “I just _can’t stop thinking about it_.”

Lucas holds them in that position for a second longer, closing his eyes as he thinks of what Eliott’s just told him. He gets it, really, if he allows himself to plunge into the darkest part of his mind, he’d also be spiralling into similar trains of thought— of not being strong enough for Eliott, of not being good enough for someone so fucking special, because truth be told, if they’re pointing fingers here, none of this would have happened if Lucas had just watched his mouth during that time at the clinic with Eliott. 

But no, as a wise lady once told him, they can’t keep dwelling on those things. They have got to stop doing that to themselves.

He leans back slightly, just far enough so that he’s able to bring Eliott’s phone in front of him. He opens it back up to their messages, hits the back button, and promptly deletes their entire chat history. Eliott practically _shrieks_ at that, almost making Lucas laugh despite the heaviness still hanging above their heads. 

“Why did you do that?” Eliott whispers, wide eyed as he stares helplessly down at the phone in Lucas’ hand. Lucas knows the sentimental idiot is mourning the loss of their first exchange, the sweet good night messages, the shameless flirting. None of that matters, though, because Lucas has a better plan in motion. 

“Because we’re going to start over,” he says, plopping the phone into Eliott’s slack hands. Eliott fiddles with it, still in shock from what Lucas has just done. “We’re going to start over,” he repeats, more firmly this time as he nudges Eliott’s chin upward. “And we’re not gonna think of what we could have done differently. We fucked up, yeah, but we’re here aren’t we?” 

He waits patiently for Eliott to nod, which he does soon enough, if a little begrudgingly. Lucas allows a chuckle to pass through his lips. “And we’re also not going to think of what’s going to happen because there’s literally no point in that, we’d be stressing over nothing. We don’t know shit about the future.”

Eliott huffs, “Okay, so what _can_ we do then?” There’s a hint of that lovely little smile tugging at the corner of his lips and Lucas brushes a finger to it. 

“What we can do… is live it day by day,” he says, echoing his mother’s words from earlier, but then he thinks of how an entire day can get overwhelming at times, hours upon hours of the unknown, and shakes his head. “No, wait.”

“No?” Eliott’s smiling face greets him when Lucas looks up.

“No,” he says, “We’ll do it minute by minute.”

Eliott steps into his space and Lucas hears the soft thud of his phone dropping on the counter. “So what are we doing for the next minute?”

“I don’t know,” he responds, coy smirk at the ready. “You pick.” 

When Eliott kisses him, Lucas inhales, deep and audible, only to feel the breath he’s taken leave his lungs a mere second after. Eliott has a hand gently cupping one side of his face while the other wraps big and warm over his thigh. That hand climbs up, up, up until it’s secured around Lucas’ waist and he feels himself being dragged closer, now only seated by the edge of the counter.

It dawns on him, startlingly, that this is the first kiss they’ve shared since that mess of a Saturday too long ago and, well, now he wants more of it _._

Lips parting easily, he throws his arms around Eliott’s shoulders, tightening like a vice grip when Eliott goes to pull away too quickly for his liking. It makes Eliott chuckle, which prompts Lucas to punch him lightly on the chest, _which then_ forces a bigger laugh out of Eliott, and it just becomes a vicious cycle of push and pull until they’re both laughing into each other’s mouths, unable to stop long enough for a proper kiss. 

“You’re so dumb,” Lucas breathes out, half heartedly shoving Eliott away. Eliott anchors his hands on the corners of the counter and bounces back into Lucas’ space with ease. 

“You started it,” Eliott says, dropping a tiny kiss on the tip of Lucas’ nose. It scrunches up in retaliation. 

“And how exactly did I—” 

But Eliott doesn’t let him finish, dipping down to connect their lips softly, pressing harder as they open up in synch. Eliott pulls and pulls until slipping completely off the counter becomes a legitimate worry for Lucas and he tries to put all his weight backwards, one hand around Eliott’s neck just in case he does lose balance while his free hand feels around for something sturdy to hold onto.

His hand accidentally hits the speakers at the other end of the counter and the volume ratchets up, blasting the kitchen with, _what the fuck_ , booming dubstep music that have no business entering Lucas’ ears. The sudden noise scares the living shit out of Lucas while Eliott… looks worryingly _delighted_.

“This is a _sick one_ ,” Eliott says, carefully fixing up Lucas’ perch on the counter so that he’s no long in danger of falling off before pulling _away_ , completely, like an inconsiderate bastard, just so he can—

Lucas looks on in wonder, flabbergasted as Eliott starts jumping and rolling his arms and dancing (can he even call it that?) to the atrocity coming from the speakers. 

“Fuck,” Lucas mumbles, biting his bottom lip against the laughter bubbling up his throat. “Are you for real?”

Eliott gives him an offended look, as if he’s the one who has the right to be offended in this scenario. “Yeah?”

“God, it’s like… I’m in the twilight zone or something.” He’s not sure what Eliott sees in his face but whatever it is gets a giggle out of him. Lucas shakes his head. “When you think you’ve found the man of your dreams but it turns out he listens to fucking _dubstep_.” 

Eliott’s entire body freezes one second and then he’s rushing back into Lucas’ space the next, megawatt smile perfectly in place to blind a surprised Lucas. “Say that again.”

“What?” Lucas asks, still blinking from the sheer joy displayed over Eliott’s face.

“I’m your what?”

“My…”

“Come on, you said it!”

Lucas slowly figures out what he means but he refuses to repeat himself— he can already feel the fierce blush rising up his cheeks just from Eliott looking at him the way he’s doing right now. Lucas would actually drop dead if he has to say those words again. “I didn’t say anything.” 

“Yes, you did.” 

“Nope,” he denies, turning away when the heat in his face feels too much to handle. 

“I heard you say it.” Eliott nudges at him with his nose, reminding Lucas of a giant puppy. 

“If you heard me then you don’t need me to repeat it.” Lucas makes to hop off the counter, hopefully to escape Eliott’s grasp in the process, but of course it doesn’t go the way he wants it to— Eliott grips him by the waist and digs his fingers in until Lucas yelps, squirming away from the ticklish sensation. “Stop that!”

“Not until you say it.”

“Eliott!”

Running away is fruitless, Eliott only places him right back where he started for every time Lucas manages to slip halfway into a standing position. His laughter is louder than his protests and Eliott’s chuckling right along with him, only slowing down when Lucas hangs onto his shoulders weakly, breathless as he whispers the words right into Eliott’s ear. 

“What?” 

“Well now you’re just being a dick.”

“No, sorry, please just one more time, baby,” Eliott implores. 

“You’re…” He stalls, enjoying the childlike anticipation in Eliott’s clear blue eyes. “The dude of my life.”

A pause. “That’s not it.”

“Beggars can’t be choosers.”

“Lucas!”

“The weirdo of my dreams.”

“Fuck’s sake.”

“You’re so fucking demanding.”

“Lucas,” Eliott’s straight up whining. 

Lucas huffs, squishing his boyfriend’s — because yes, that’s what they are again — cheeks together while Eliott resumes his sulking. Lucas kisses the pout off his face, hands sliding down to Eliott’s neck as he places another innocent little kiss on his lips. “You’re the man of my dreams.” 

He doesn’t get a warning before Eliott scoops him right into his arms and squashes him into possibly the tightest, warmest, most enthusiastic embrace he’s ever been subjected to. 

Breathing is going to be a challenge soon enough but Lucas doesn’t say a thing. 

“Did you hear that?” Eliott suddenly crouches down and Lucas realizes that Champ has woken from her nap and has toddled over to check out the commotion in the kitchen. “You heard that right? He said I’m the man of his dreams,” Eliott says, looking at Champ expectantly. She stares back at him with blank, beady eyes. 

Lucas laughs at the pair until a different dubstep song comes on and Eliott gasps, looking excited all over. 

“Jesus,” Lucas groans out, wiping a hand over his face as Eliott starts dancing again, this time with Champ running circles around his ankles. Eliott’s eyes are focused on the little dog, careful not to step on her while at the same time engaging as if they’re supposed to be dancing together.

It’s ridiculous. Eliott’s ridiculous.

Lucas is ridiculously in love. 

“Eli monkey?” 

Eliott groans, taking his phone from Lucas. “It’s from when we were kids.”

“That’s cute.” Lucas laughs, untangling his limbs from Eliott so he can get up from the couch.

“Where are you going?” Eliott asks, winding his arms around Lucas to prevent him from leaving.

“I’m gonna change into my clothes.”

“Why?”

“Mama made fun of me for wearing yours.”

Eliott’s head perks up, smile giddy as his arms tighten— Lucas doesn’t even attempt to struggle out of it. “So she knows about me?”

“No, not really…” His eyes slide sideways, gauging Eliott’s reaction. “Do you… want her to?”

“If you want to.”

“So you want to.”

“Do you?”

“Oh my god,” Lucas sighs, exasperated. Eliott’s laughing into his shoulders by now, likely aware of the difficult time he’s giving Lucas. “You’re so annoying.”

“So I’ve heard.” 

“She asked when she can meet you,” Lucas mumbles, tracing the veins running up Eliott’s arms to occupy his eyes. He’s too nervous to have this conversation otherwise.

“Anytime,” Eliott answers a little too fast. Lucas tucks a smile behind his own hand, stupidly pleased with that response. He’s been dying to replace the memories of Eliott and his mother being in the same vicinity with more pleasant ones and he _can’t wait_ for it to finally happen. 

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“I’m still changing clothes though, so get _off_ of me,you giant octopus.” 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me?? making too many insta edits for one (1) chapter?? 
> 
> don't know what you're talking about


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eliott may be all that; rich, handsome, instagram famous— but the basic plebe inside comes out to play when his crush follows him from out of nowhere.
> 
> Or: Press F but Eliott’s POV

_Parting is such sweet sorrow_ has gained a whole new meaning as Eliott stands in front of Lucas, bouncing back and forth on his heels in a bid to stall some more before he truly has to go. 

“You really don’t want me to stay with you until Yann comes back?” He finally pushes out the question, brows furrowing in concern despite the reassuring smile Lucas gives him. 

“I’ll be fine, Eliott.” Lucas picks Champ up from the ground when she starts spinning around in place, looking about ready to lay down and have a nap right at their feet. “Go see your mom.”

"I mean... she’ll probably survive one day without eating my dad’s cooking.” he reasons, pouting when Lucas gives him an exasperated look. 

“Bring your mom her rightful lunch, just like you _told_ your dad you would. I don’t want there to be any reason for them to hate me.” 

“That’s impossible, they already love you.”

Lucas pauses, bottom lip caught behind his teeth as he looks up at Eliott uncertainly. “Really?”

Eliott softens, sighing out a quiet, “Really.” His hands move on their own accord, brushing against the line of Lucas’ jaw. He can’t imagine how a single person in this universe could ever be capable of hating Lucas. 

“Really, really?” 

“Really, really.”

“Cool. You really, really have to go now, though.” Lucas laughs, nuzzling into Eliott’s hands like _that_ would help his case. 

“Okay, but if you need me for anything at all, you’ve gotta promise to tell me.” The grip he has on Lucas tightens just a little, firm enough to have his boyfriend tipping his head back to see the resolve in Eliott’s eyes. “I mean it. Anything.” 

Lucas can honestly ask him to do his grocery shopping right here right now and Eliott would undoubtedly agree. Hell, if Lucas tells him that the windows rattling from the wind bothers him, he’d drop everything and run back to him. Eliott has no qualms about the lengths he’d go to protect Lucas, to keep him feeling safe. 

Champ yips, gazing happily up at Eliott as a comfortable silence embraces them otherwise, the sight of Lucas’ precious smile warming the crystallizing fear creeping up on him. The mere prospect of leaving his boyfriend alone for hours until Yann gets back is frankly a no go in Eliott’s books but he understands that Lucas might need some space, and Eliott has his own responsibilities to uphold. 

Fuck if it doesn’t scare him, though. The atrocious start to their weekend has really done a number on him. 

“I promise,” Lucas whispers eventually, leaning up to kiss the beginnings of a frown off of Eliott’s lips. 

Eliott watches him carefully, running a thumb over the shadowed smudge under Lucas’ eyes. He’d waited until Lucas fell asleep first before slipping into dream land himself, but Lucas had already been awake by the time Eliott next opens his eyes— and Eliott is an early riser. He forces himself not to dwell on it, he _had_ been privy to an offhanded comment about Lucas’ complicated relationship with sleep before so maybe this morning is nothing out of the ordinary. 

“Alright, I’ll see you later.” Stooping down for another kiss, Eliott lets this one linger a little longer, breathing in once they pull away and brushing a final kiss to Lucas’ forehead. He peels his hands off of him, squishing Champ’s tiny head in between his palms to make up for how his mind is screaming for him to _hold on_. “You’ll take care of him for me, right tough girl?” She licks his hands in enthusiastic answer. 

Lucas snorts out a laugh. “ _You_ take care, don’t miss your stop or you’ll get back too late.”  

“Yes, sir.” Eliott playfully salutes as he walks backwards, stopping just out of reach before he gestures towards Lucas’ still closed door. “Well? I’m not leaving until you’re inside.”

He’s expecting the eye roll that comes— it’s sweet and fond, familiar. The exact kind Eliott craves to soothe his fraying edges. 

Lucas turns around once he’s inside, grinning at Eliott and blowing an exaggerated kiss in his direction. It’s so ridiculous that Eliott’s laugh is ripped right out of him, loud and startled, echoing in the empty hallways, nipping at the sound of Lucas’ door shutting with a heavy bang. 

All alone, he finds himself despondent, kicking imaginary dirt off the floor as he trudges on with a pathetic pout. There’s no proper way to explain this feeling— they’ve literally almost managed to hole themselves up in Eliott’s apartment the entire weekend. It’s not like Eliott can help it, though, he _did_ just get Lucas back and his needy little melodramatic heart misses his boyfriend for every minute they aren’t together.

He drags himself out of Lucas’ apartment building with visible difficulty, feet shuffling against the rough gravel below his feet all the way through his journey to the bus stop. 

It’s going to take him quite a while to get to his mother’s office without a car. Usually, his father has no problem dropping by himself, but he’d answered a favour for an old coworker out in Lyon and will probably be stuck there until the next morning. 

In a not so shocking turn of events, his mother forgets to take her ready packed lunch to work without his father being present to remind her of it. And obviously that’s an abomination, _she can’t go without a homemade lunch Eliott_ , _she’d get so hungry and her brain won’t be as sharp as usual, her work ethic would suffer because of it_. Eliott had cut off his papa’s rambling with a groan and a reluctant agreement to bring the goddamn sandwich to its rightful owner just so the guy would stop worrying already. Hopeless romantic runs thick in the blood of the Demaurys apparently. 

 **adam.fk  
**plans today??

 **idrisomd  
**sleep

 **abebkhellal  
**oof yeah 

 **emir.yous  
**buncha boring old men

 **omarions  
**says you??  
didn’t you spend fall break last year learning how to play chess lmao

 **emir. yous  
**we don’t talk about that

 **idrisomd  
**shut up emir not everyone is a free bird like you  
I was editing some stuff and I realized I need that dumb triangle still lol  
eliott can I borrow yours pls

 **emir.yous  
**maybe if you don’t procrastinate you’d have more free time  
I thought you were keeping that triangle??

 **idrisomd  
**maybe if you shut up you’d get more dates  
I had to sacrifice it for the greater good

Eliott laughs under his breath, contemplating whether he should add his two cents into the conversation. In the end, he keeps to himself for now, reading through the childish banter that inevitably starts up.

The triangle, huh. He’s glad the bus is mostly empty at present, else the giggling he can’t quite suppress would’ve probably worried some people. Fucking unbelievable, really. It’s ridiculous how it all started, now that he thinks about it. It feels like a lifetime has gone by since then.

     

* * *

  

Eliott still remembers it, vividly. That moment he set his eyes on Lucas. It’s the week before their new semester officially starts— a Thursday to be specific. He and his friends are scrambling around frantically attempting to maximize their remaining days of freedom to get ahead on his and Idris’ new film project.

“Props.”

“Props?”

“Yeah, we’re missing some props.”

Eliott struggles with the cardboard boxes he’s dragging behind him— they’re saving all the money they can by building the set for filming themselves. The rest of the guys get pulled into the fray, as always, so it’s a bit of a disaster when they’re all going around picking up stray cardboard and styrofoam just in case they need it for later.

“What’s the thing you were talking about earlier?” Abe snaps his fingers, trying to recall everything they need before leaving campus.

Idris jumps. “The triangle!”

“What do we need a triangle for?” Adam asks, fumbling with the styrofoam cups he’s balancing in one hand.

“For that one scene in the forest.”

“There’s a scene in the forest?” Omar pipes up from behind their circle, returning from the storage room where he’d gone to dig out some black garbage bags they can borrow.

“Well, it’s Emir’s backyard but whatever.” Eliott mutters, scratching things off of their checklist. “Can’t we just fake the triangle sounds?”

“Too much effort for a little scene. Don’t you have one at yours?”

“Yeah, but my place is out of the way, it’ll take too much time going there and then to Emir’s.” He shrugs, tapping the pen against his chin. “We can take the one from the theatre.”

Emir gives him a look. “We are not stealing the orchestra’s triangle.”

“Nobody will miss it,” Abe dismisses, already walking off to load their things in his car.

“What if someone tells the director it’s missing?”

“Emir, who would notice a missing triangle?” Idris raises his hands as he talks, incredulous at the question. “When you watch your classic live shows, do you hear anyone go _oh, yes, the triangle was on point today_? No you don’t, cause nobody gives a fuck about the goddamn triangle, man. Eliott, can you please grab us the triangle so we can get outta here?”

“If we get in trouble, I get plausible deniability,” Emir mumbles defiantly. Eliott snorts, patting Emir on the shoulder on his way out.

The theatre is only a short jog away from the parking lot so Eliott slips through the doors in no time, rooting around backstage for the instrument. He finds the little thing buried underneath a broken flute and a... tambourine?

Single piano notes echo along the walls without warning, and Eliott jumps from his crouch, heart beating fast from shock. He doesn’t run, though, because whoever is out there is obviously not going to spot him if they’re preoccupied with playing the piano.

He’s just about to leave again, grab his stolen goods and sneak his way back out, when the aimless piano notes begin to blend together with effortless flow, a sudden transition tickling his ears so pleasantly that Eliott can’t bring his feet to move along more than two steps at a time. Transfixed, he walks closer to the curtain, curious as to who would play such a beautiful melody so delicately.

Eliott has always wished life would be as easy as the films he's grown up watching— with twists and turns that cause crushing moments, yes, but with the comfort of a happy ending to cushion against the pain through it all. He’s always dreamt of something cliche to happen to him once in his life. Maybe he could win the lottery and live the rest of his life as a billionaire. Maybe he could meet someone so inspiring he’d gain the courage to pack up and explore the world with nothing but a boat and backpack. Maybe he could fall in love at first sight

The boy on the piano is turned sideways but Eliott can clearly see him from where he’s hidden behind the curtain. The smile on his face is plain adorable and the way he’s swinging his feet under the piano (he’s not even using the piano pedals and it still sounds so _good_ ) goes straight to Eliott’s heart.

His feet carry him forward, as if entranced, so helplessly drawn into the boy’s gravity—

“Stop,” the boy says, laughing. Eliott stops, startled. “You’re gonna ruin it, Yann,” his angel continues, head swinging to the side where another person who Eliott has apparently not seen is sitting.

The other guy, Yann, laughs too, picking up a violin. “No I swear, I can do it. I took classes once, remember?”

“Yeah, like ten years ago and you quit after two days.”

The two boys giggle at each other and the angel stops playing, attention fully on Yann. There’s a profound affection in the way they interact together, which makes glum little stones fall heavy against the bottom of Eliott’s stomach. 

 _Jesus,_ he needs to calm down. He doesn’t even know the boy’s name yet.

His phone vibrates in his pocket and Eliott’s glad he’s forgotten to put the ringer back on. He doesn’t know how he’d explain it if the two boys catch him skulking around backstage.

Eliott runs out of the theatre soon after, remembering how pressed for time he and the guys already are. He tries to put the thought of the boy behind him, making vague hand gestures in lieu of explaining what delayed his return when the guys question him.

He fails miserably.

 

* * *

 

The bus lurches and Eliott almost drops his phone, fingers grappling for a firm hold on the screen as it slips and slides from the abrupt movement. He still has the group chat with the guys open so the scrabble has him accidentally scrolling up, up, up around a month back.

When he looks down at the screen, he's taken right back to that delightful moment Lucas had unknowingly caused back then.

The doors open and close, one person exiting but a whole crowd entering right after. Eliott presses himself more comfortably into his back seat corner and settles a hand over his mouth, covering the widening grin stretching his lips as he reads through his own moronic words.

Good god, looking back on it now is hilarious, but Eliott will never forget the all consuming panic he’d felt at the time.

 

* * *

  

Eliott exits out of the chat, frantically scrolling down his barrage of notifications to stare reverently at the one that matters most. 

_**lucallemant** started following you _

It’s almost two hours past midnight, with him having just finished up the sketch for the side project he’s working on by himself. He’s been looking forward to falling into bed ages ago but now he’s wide awake, brain swirling with jumbled thoughts and with no hope of falling asleep within the next second.

 **srodulv  
**when should I?  
should I wait til later?

 **adam.fk  
**maybe wait til its not 2 in the morning lmfao

 **srodulv**  
what if I wait too long and he unfollows

 **abebkhellal  
**god almighty 😂😂😂  
sorry bro no one can help u now

 **srodulv  
**help me

 **emir.yous  
**why does it matter? just follow him now

 **idrisomd  
**he’s probably sleeping so he won’t know you’re a nocturnal beast

 **srodulv**  
he won’t think that’s lame?

 **omarions**  
he’ll eventually figure out how lame you are so might as well run with it

 **srodulv**  
fuck off

 **idrisomd**  
yeah man  
you can’t hide lame

 **emir.yous**  
sorry we can’t help with that

 **abebkhellal**  
rip

_**srodulv** has left the chat_

A bunch of useless hooligans, those guys are. He needs better friends.

His phone pings with more notifications— Idris has added him back in the group chat but Eliott ignores the messages for now, knowing full well that there’d be nothing but more of them poking fun at his current dilemma.

He opens up Lucas’ profile, heart palpitating as his thumb hovers over the follow button. Looking at the boy’s feed brings him the same mix of apprehension and fondness, as always. The latter because he’s an idiot who apparently falls head over heels for snippy little piano players and the former because, well—

_I’m sorry, bro. I saw something, I think they’re maybe together? I’m still not a hundred percent on it, though._

Eliott sighs, clicking on Lucas’ latest post, of that guy playing the guitar for him. He scoffs, he can play the guitar too. He can even do the Star Wars theme song. On the guitar _and_ the piano. Lucas needs to see that he’s the better choice over here.  

He lets his screen go dark, closing his eyes as he urges himself to relax. It _is_ quite an ungodly hour to be awake so he drops his phone on the bed, turns over, and hopes that morning comes with a newfound game plan to get the love of his life to love him back.

The good news is that morning does come, but the bad news is that all the plans he comes up with throughout the day are steaming piles of shit. 

“I think I’m in love,” he blurts out, sitting in the basement of Emir’s house. Idris is standing on the couch, trying to cover the ceiling spotlights with printer paper so as to ‘dull’ its luminosity. Adam and Omar are struggling to hold up some desk lamps while Abe holds coloured file folders over the bulb, changing the colour of the lights for the correct ‘ambiance’. Emir is elbow deep in crushed styrofoam pieces.

They all exchange looks of confusion before Abe goes for a hesitant, “Uh... just now?”

Eliott scowls, waving a hand as if they’re so stupid to be unable to read his mind. He gestures to his phone, still open to Lucas’ Instagram page. 

"Oh yeah! Any progress on that front?” Idris hops down, eyes glued to the ceiling as he backs up, slowly as if one wrong move could shake the house so much that his pieces of paper would dislodge themselves. 

“No.” Eliott pouts, flailing his legs in unashamed frustration. 

“Okay, well, have you followed back?” Adam asks, twining some rope around the lamp once they’ve figured out the best angle to go with. 

“No. Shit,” Eliott hisses, sitting upright and immediately hitting the _follow_ button. He’s been so focused on figuring out how to start a conversation with his angel that he’s neglected to think of much else.

One of them sighs, but Eliott doesn’t bother to look up at the sound of it. 

“So what are you gonna do next?” Emir abandons his crumbly work of art, now sitting cross legged across from Eliott. 

“He’s vague posting.” Idris grins, scrolling through his phone. “Ooh, _Polaris_. When did you even sneak off to take this? That caption though. Much mystery, so cool.” 

“Shut up, it’s an old picture.” Eliott throws a couch cushion at him, then proceeds to slide onto the floor, diving flat on his stomach closer to the guys, as he comes up with the most _brilliant_ idea. “What if I’m not?”

“Huh?” Abe goes to sit on the floor as well.

“What if I’m not cool or mysterious? Would that get him to talk to me?” Eliott’s thumbs are working on overdrive before the words are fully out of his mouth, scrolling down each and every one of Lucas’ photos and hitting like on as many of them as he can manage. 

He looks up just it time to see the dawning realization on Abe’s face. “No!” he screams in horror, reaching out to snatch the phone from Eliott’s hands. “No, you— oh _man_ , you guys, he did a weird thing.” 

“It’s not weird,” Eliott dismisses, trying to retrieve his phone back but every attempt is slapped away by the annoying people he unfortunately calls friends. “It’s called _reaching out_.”

Idris is cackling, bent over in half as Abe shakes his head in wonder. “That’s kinda genius, though? How very _Eliott_ of you,” Idris gasps out once he’s done wheezing up a lung. 

“He’s getting the Eliott experience way too early in the relationship.” Omar mumbles, curiously going through the rest of Lucas’ older posts. “Aw, cute.” 

Eliott scrambles towards them, wanting to see which post Omar’s referring to despite the fact that he’s seen every single photo twice over. 

His hand slowly creeps up above the phone and double taps on the post.

“Oh my god, someone _restrain_ him.” Adam says, dragging a hand down his face. He sounds like he’s trying his hardest not to laugh which is more than what he can say for the rest of them so Eliott appreciates his effort. 

“Come on, Eli monkey, time to break off from Insta for a bit, hm?” Idris walks forward, still chuckling as he tries to pull Eliott off the ground and away from his stolen phone.

Eliott wraps his arms around Idris’ ankles, almost making the latter fall on his face in the process. “But he’s so beautiful.”

“Yes, yes.”

“His eyelashes are the 8th wonder of the world.”

There’s a collective groan from everyone in the room and then Eliott feels a placating hand patting the top of his bowed head. “Yes, we get it. But you gotta get up now, lover boy. We‘ve got shit to film.”

     

* * *

  

By the time his stop comes up, Eliott has to squeeze himself past a godawful amount of passengers. He gets it’s break week for a lot of the students but considering it’s a Monday afternoon, Eliott is of the opinion that there really shouldn’t be this many people out and about. 

His mother’s office is a towering structure of reflective glass and one way windows. Eliott pushes at the revolving doors, nods a smile towards the reception desk, and settles into one of the many armchairs in the lounge area. He shoots a message for his mama to come meet him downstairs and doesn’t wait for a response before switching tabs to pull up the film he’s been wanting to see all day. Initially, he’s planned on seeing it with Lucas, knowing that it’s just the right amount of lengthy and boring (for his boyfriend’s taste) to have Lucas cuddling for a nap on his shoulder instead.

But alas, his plans are impeded by none other than his loving parents. Again. He still hasn’t quite forgiven them for poking fun at him being grumpy at brunch after that first night he’d spent with Lucas. 

About ten minutes in, someone walks towards him and sits directly across from Eliott’s armchair, never mind that the entire lounge area is devoid of any other person than the two of them. 

Eliott doesn’t pay it much mind, unmuting his phone speakers just loud enough for him to hear the background music coming from the film— he wants to record the sound and see if that kind of music score would work well for the mini project he’s planning to put up in the future. 

The stranger lets out a faint chuckle but Eliott ignores him, watching the minutes rise on the recording to make sure that he doesn’t miss a single note. Never let it be said that Eliott doesn’t take his films seriously. 

“Fancy seeing you here.”

Violence is never at the forefront of Eliott’s mind. In fact, he thinks it doesn’t solve much, and should be considered as the last resort. But as life would have it, there are always a few exceptions to the rule and unfortunately for his good mood, the sole exception he’s found in his twenty one years of existence has decided that today is the day that Eliott will commit murder. 

Eliott’s eyes flick to where Raphael relaxes back in his seat, legs crossed and fingers delicately twined in his lap— to any outside viewer, he truly looks the perfect representation of an educated, well-bred gentleman. Eliott sees why people are drawn him.

“Fancy isn’t the right word,” he says, just as casual. He pauses the film, music cutting off just in time for him to hear another one of Raphael’s grating chuckles. “Why are you here?” The answer is obvious; pressed slacks and dark suit a dead give away. He remembers Lucas mentioning that Raphael works in a law firm but Eliott needs to hear it, to make sure that fate has really handed this opportunity over on a silver platter. 

Raphael spreads his arms. “I work here,” he answers, smug. “What about you? Someone trying to pin murder on you?”

Funny how he’s asking that, but Eliott doesn’t answer his question. “New York too much for you, huh.” 

Eliott watches the minute narrowing of Raphael’s eyes, taking pleasure in the fact that the guy hasn’t expected Lucas to divulge their story in such detail. 

“New York was great, actually, they offered me a spot there as well but eh, I need to think about it.” Raphael leans forward, elbows on knees as he brings one hand up to rub across his lips, faux thoughtful. “I left a little something behind here.” He looks at Eliott, then, and the latter sees the fabricated warmth in his eyes freeze over, ice cold in barely restrained anger. “I want it back.” 

 _Don’t mess this up_ , Eliott reminds himself, fists clenching and unclenching as he reigns in his temper. How he’d _love_ to feel the crunch of Raphael’s nose under his fists right now, but it’s not that kind of battle. Eliott only has one shot to play his cards right. 

“Cut the bullshit,” he responds, surprisingly calm. “Lucas isn’t yours to take back.”

Raphael laughs. “Why, he’s yours now?” 

 _Yes_. “Neither. I’d appreciate it if you stop talking like he’s something to pass around.”

“How chivalrous of you.”

“I’m surprised you know what that means.” Eliott wants to say more, but he grits them back. There are more important things for him to needle out. “What with all the shit you put him through.”

“I didn’t do anything.” Raphael falls back into the cushions once more, infuriatingly unaffected. 

“Do you want an essay or a list?” 

“So quick to believe everything you’re told, are you? Did he cry and look at you with those big blue eyes? He does that all the time to get what he wants.” There’s a strain at the corners of Raphael’s eyes, nonchalant facade slipping down the longer Eliott stares on without a word. “You know there’s no evidence for any of these, right?” 

The quick dismissal of Lucas’ personal recounting almost does it for Eliott. But if Raphael is a master of manipulation then Eliott is of restraint— he won’t let Raphael win. “Yeah? You gonna tell that to the marks on his wrists?” 

Raphael scoffs, “That was an accident. Friday was a big misunderstanding, trust me. It’s called tough love, he likes it.” He smiles, obviously waiting for a reaction from Eliott but the latter maintains an impassive exterior. 

“It’s called assault.” He barely refrains from tagging on a spiteful _fuckface_ at the end of that.

“Whoa there, that’s some heavy accusation you’re dropping!” Raphael laughs, running a hand through his hair. “Do you know who I am?” 

“A sad excuse of a man who takes advantage of vulnerable minors?” 

Raphael clicks his tongue. “You think you’re so perfect, huh?” 

“Far from it.” Eliott shrugs. “But I don’t hurt the people I’m supposed to love.” 

“Well aren’t you just the sweetest.” Sarcasm drips from Raphael’s words. “You think if we both stand here, right in front of Lucas, and make him choose.” He leans forward, a desperate glint in his eyes. “You’re positive he’d choose _you_? Cause let me tell you, _Eliott_ , that boy is wired for my touch, for my voice, for my own to do as I please, and he will choose me no matter how much I hurt him. He will _always_ come back to me and you can’t do shit about it.” 

Victory feels good when taken by a landslide. Eliott grins, and he sees confusion, frustration, and wariness warp Raphael’s carefully constructed expression into that of something… human. Human, unlike the impenetrable monster Lucas has painted inside his head. Human, who, despite the cunning and intelligence, very much fucks up like everyone else. And oh, has Raphael fucked up big time. 

“My turn,” Eliott says cheerfully, just to mess with the bastard even more. “Do _you_ know who I am?” Slowly, so as to make sure that Raphael catches the movement, Eliott stops the recording on his phone. 

Raphael shoots up from his seat, panic dousing his face red all over before seething rage takes prominence. He hisses out a quiet, “Get rid of that, right fucking now. You don’t want to mess with me.”

Eliott stands, huffing out a small laugh as he notices that they’re of equal height. None of Raphael’s tactics has worked, or will _ever_ work on him. “Nah, it’s the other way around.” 

“Eliott?” 

Georgine Eloise Demaury, part time managing partner of the law firm, part time vicious criminal prosecutor, and full time doting mother, makes a tall, intimidating figure in her navy suit and sky high heels. Her eyes are steel blue as they land on Eliott and Raphael alternatively. The red on her lips is a sharp scowl, striking against the paleness of her skin. 

Eliott presses his lips together, amused at the sight of what he fondly refers to as her _working bitch face_. She’s forbidden Eliott from visiting her at work too often just because he’s the only one capable of cracking her diabolical attorney persona. He keeps quiet, shrugging innocently when she raises a questioning eyebrow at him.

“Hi, mama.” 

He hears Raphael’s sharp intake of breath and _fuck_ , that feels good.

Her lips twitch the slightest bit. “You two know each other?” 

“Just having a friendly chat,” Eliott says, looking over at Raphael with a tight smile. He relishes the startled loss he sees there. 

“I’m waiting on a call from Mr. Schutt,” Raphael says, rearranging his face, posture straightening under Georgine’s gaze. 

“And you?” She addresses Eliott this time. 

“I brought lunch?” Eliott gestures at his bag on the chair. “Papa got worried you’d starve when you told him you forgot it.” 

She rolls her eyes at her husband’s dramatics. “You didn’t have to come here.”

“Yeah, well, tell that to papa. You’re gonna have to eat it now, I ditched my boyfriend for this.”

“Ah, how’s Lucas? Come up to my office, you didn’t finish telling me how he’s doing last night,” she says, rigid frown compensating for the soft tone in her voice. Across from Eliott, Raphael flinches at the mention of Lucas’ name. “I need to grab something from IT and then I’ll be right there.” 

“Will do.” Eliott smiles, throwing his backpack over one shoulder when his mother walks away. He waits until the click clacking of her heels fade off completely before he turns to face Raphael. “So anyway, I suggest you think _very hard_ about that offer in New York.” 

“You’re insane,” Raphael mutters behind clenched jaws. 

Years ago, that might have stung. Coming from someone else, it might still hurt. But as it is, Eliott revels in it. “You have no idea,” he says, raising his hand for the most condescending pat on the back he’s ever delivered before heading off to the elevators. 

Eliott ends up taking a _long_ nap on his mother’s office couch, tired from interacting with Raphael and his stupid mind games. Sure, he’d come out on top of that one but lengthy confrontations are most definitely not Eliott’s cup of tea. He thinks if Raphael still has the audacity to show his face after that, Eliott will let loose of inhibitions and just start a proper fist fight. 

Recording their conversation had been a gut reaction— he’s not even sure it would help much if push comes to shove. But his mother has quite the terrifying track record and judging from Raphael’s reaction, he knows that too. He almost wishes for Raphael to do something stupid, to trip up the wire on Eliott’s half baked, convoluted plan to take him down permanently. The idea of delving into it scares him a little. He knows shit all about the justice system and Raphael is literally _part_ of the goddamn system. 

Lucas wants to leave it to karma, and maybe he’s right.

But then Eliott remembers the tears streaming nonstop down Lucas’ face, the blank disconnect in his eyes throughout _that_ night. His worn voice begging for Eliott not to let go. The hours spent in bed coaxing for an unresponsive Lucas to _sleep just a little, I’m right here_. The events of that night have taken permanent residence in his mind, painfully unwanted, but there to stay. 

    

* * *

  

**lucallemant  
**Eliott, I know I said I’d give you all the time you need  
And I mean it, you can have more right after this   
But please, can you pick me up at work?  
I need you please  
Please

Call him dramatic all you want, but Eliott’s world comes apart when he reads Lucas’ pleading messages. His vision narrows, the path a blurred vignette, and time slows as if he’s thrown into the fucking matrix. Except there’s nothing exciting or amusing with this development, and his limbs work through honey as he turns and grabs a jacket, shoves his feet into mismatched shoes, and makes a run for it.

It’s not the messages itself that cost him his breath— though those do have him worried out of his mind, unable to even begin guessing as to what would scare Lucas enough to send them. It’s the timestamps that have his heart rattling with unease. The faint chanting of _too late too late too late_ a mournful echo in his head. 

He pays no mind to it when he begins panting, head pounding as the freezing wind bites at him with heavy force, unbothered that he hasn’t eaten much for the past however long. He’s not going to stop until he reaches his destination. 

However, when he gets there, the cafe is dark and empty. _You’re too late_ , the voice is screaming now. Eliott tells it to shut up, paces the area for a bit, and then checks inside the darkened alleyways. It’s empty. He walks the opposite direction, headed towards the parking lot— and there, that’s when he hears the hushed voice speaking.

Eliott swivels around, rushes towards the sound, and doesn’t allow himself to hesitate on the idea that it’s not Lucas trapped in between the wall and that man’s body. 

“Get the fuck off of him.” When he’s close enough, he shoves them apart, fighting against the urge to take Lucas in his arms right away. He has to get rid of the man first. The visceral clutch of anger simmers inside of him, a heat of gargantuan proportions boiling his blood. Eliott imagines this is what one would feel like just before committing a heinous crime.

His interaction with the stranger barely sticks to Eliott’s mind, more focused on the way Lucas presses close to his back. His hands shake with barely constrained fury but he doesn’t move, afraid Lucas will fall if Eliott isn’t there to hold him up. “You can fuck _right off_ or I swear to god.”

The man raises his hands, chuckles ringing malicious as he shakes his head. “You don’t know what you’re getting into.”

Eliott doesn’t care for his cryptic bullshit. “Don’t make me repeat myself.” 

His smile is visible in the dark and Eliott’s been around enough of those with questionable morals to pinpoint the lack of kindness in it. “Fine.” He tilts his head as if to catch a final glimpse of Lucas but Eliott tucks Lucas in tight behind him— this guy doesn’t deserve to even _look_ at him. 

When the sound of a car engine fades out, Eliott turns around, engulfing Lucas as best as he can, hoping that his embrace would provide a temporary shelter from it all. He knows it’s impossible, knows he can’t do much on his end other than watch with powerless clarity as painful sobs wrack the small body in his arms. He repeats a litany of apologies into Lucas’ hair. “I have you, _I have you_.” 

Their walk home is silence in its strangest form. Eliott realizes there’s something wrong, he can feel it at the tips of his fingers but he puts it down to Lucas gathering his thoughts and lets him be. 

“Lucas,” he says as the apartment comes into view. “I know we haven’t… I don’t… listen, can I stay with you for the night? I’ll sleep on the couch, anything, I just want to be there.”

Silence. 

Eliott bites his cheek, fidgeting nervously when Lucas continues to not say anything. He chances a glance at the boy beside him and sees him looking straight ahead, expression blank as if nothing’s been said.

“Thanks,” is all Lucas says once they reach the steps to the building, failing to acknowledge Eliott’s request.  

“Lucas, wait!” 

Unheard, just like the last time. 

There’s something really, really wrong. 

Eliott picks at his head, staring up at what he knows to be the window to Lucas’ apartment. He tells himself he’ll only wait until the lights flicker on, but seconds turn to minutes and the window remains dark. Chest tightening, Eliott changes his mind. He’ll wait until someone goes in or exits the building, will plant himself outside of Lucas' door— he doesn’t care if Lucas or Yann don’t want to see his face right now, all he wants is to make sure that Lucas stays safe for the rest of the night. 

Except the next person to exit the doors is Lucas himself, Champ cradled in his arms. 

“Why are you not inside?” Eliott is familiar with the feeling of helplessness but it always pertains to his own mind, his own body. He’s rarely ever so taken off guard that he doesn’t know how to make it better for someone else. And yet here he stands, frozen with panic, speechless in the face of the one he loves most. 

Yann isn’t home, Lucas is hard-pressed on buying extra locks for their door, and there’s no way Eliott is letting him back inside the apartment all alone. 

“Lucas,” Eliott reaches out, wants nothing more than to cradle Lucas’ face in between his hands, but he’s afraid of what touching him would do. “Come back to me.” It sounds unsteady even to his own ears and maybe Eliott’s having a little trouble breathing, but he’s more desperate for Lucas to meet his eyes than worry about his next inhale. 

Lucas doesn’t. Come back to Eliott, that is. 

The entire walk up to his apartment, and then the walk back to Eliott’s are both filled with a strained distance that has nothing to do with physical proximity. Eliott’s no longer surprised when Lucas doesn’t answer any of his questions but he keeps firing off either way, hoping against all odds that _something_ would click. But it doesn’t work that way, he knows. He, of all people, should know better. 

He tries again once they’re inside the safety of Eliott’s home. “Lucas, are you with me?” Eliott asks and he’s not. He’s not. 

Running out of options, Eliott’s hand hovers over his mom’s contact info, his dad’s, Idris’, Lucille’s— he just wants _someone_ to tell him _what to do_. 

In the end he doesn’t get to call anyone, as a loud thud comes from the bathroom where he’d left Lucas and Eliott trips over himself in his rush, crashing into the kitchen counter, banging his arms against the potted plant hanging in the living room. 

But the pain from those clumsy little accidents is nothing compared to the sight of Lucas crying on the floor, blue eyes running red from the force of his tears. “Lucas?”

“Eliott.” His voice is so quiet, so broken that it takes Eliott down to his knees, colliding harshly against the tiled floors as he brings Lucas into the circle of his arms. Tears gather in the corners of Eliott’s eyes but he knows for certain that they're not from the sting of his fall. 

“Don’t let me go back,” Lucas pleads, breath caught between one word and the other. 

“You’re never going back,” Eliott swears on his life. 

Lucas quiets down after what feels like hours upon hours of tears and stuttering breaths. Eliott knows he isn’t asleep, though— his wet lashes brush softly against the skin of Eliott’s neck for every blink. Left without much option, Eliott detangles their legs and carefully lifts Lucas into his arms, a mustard seed of hope swelling in his chest when Lucas twitches at the movement. There’s a pause as Eliott waits for the boy to protest, grumble for Eliott to put him down, he can walk on his _own_. 

It doesn’t come, so Eliott goes to tuck him into bed, receives no protest when he quietly dresses Lucas in the clothes he’s brought out. Lucas’ eyes remain downcast the entire time, immovable no matter how many times Eliott brushes a hand through his hair, wipes at the tear tracks smeared on his cheeks. 

Lucas doesn’t sleep until well past two in the morning. Eliott doesn’t sleep at all.

   

* * *

  

“You okay, honey?” 

His mama looks like a whole different person in private, Eliott’s always marvelled at her ability to switch off just like that. Her eyes are all clear skies and motherly affection, no trace of the savage G.E Demaury to be found as her hands card gently through his hair. 

He wants to tell her so badly, but this is Lucas’ story to share. Involving his parents to ask for help with anything is a foreign concept to Lucas and would make this a bit more complicated, yes, so Eliott will just have to wear patience like it’s going out of style. 

“Yeah,” he croaks out, still groggy from his nap. 

“Do you wanna wait for me to finish up here and I can drive you back?”

“Uh…” Eliott rubs his eyes, forcing his brain to catch up with his mama’s words. He checks his phone before answering, blinking while his eyes adjust to the brightness of his screen.

 **lucallemant  
**Do you wanna come over for tonight?  
I know we were just together but  
It’s fine if you’re gonna be back too late though

He thinks he’s actually physically melting just from reading those. “It’s okay, I have to get going now.” 

 **srodulv  
**If I didn’t fall asleep I’d be begging you to come over anyway

 **lucallemant  
**You were asleep at your mom’s work??

 **srodulv  
**😂  
See you soon   
♥️♥️♥️  
♥️♥️♥️♥️  
♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️  
♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️  
☹️  
♥️

 **lucallemant  
**♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️  
♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️  
♥️♥️♥️♥️  
♥️♥️♥️  
♥️♥️  
♥️

 **srodulv  
**😊  
♥️

   

* * *

 

He stops to get some take out on the way, knowing Yann will be there and would most likely not be so chummy with Eliott after the whole thing from the past few weeks. He figures he can extend a truce through food— the way to a man’s heart and all. 

When he knocks on Lucas’ door, he hears a couple of thuds, some rapid, illegible whispering, and then the door finally opens only for Lucas to catapult himself into Eliott’s arms. The door slams shut behind him and Eliott might just be seeing things but he’s pretty sure that’s a glimpse of Yann’s unimpressed form standing on the other side of the door. 

“Hi,” Lucas breathes out, one arm slung around Eliott’s neck while the other is bent awkwardly behind him, holding onto the wriggling doorknob as if to keep a ravenous beast from escaping.

Uh oh.  

“Hi,” Eliott greets back. “On a scale of Champ to Jurassic Park, how scared should I be of Yann right now?” 

Lucas bites his lip and Eliott can’t help it— he kisses him before Lucas can respond. He means for it to be a chaste touch, but Lucas lets go of the knob (thankfully no longer rattling) and throws both arms around Eliott, pressing closer and opening his lips to deepen the kiss. Eliott lets himself indulge in it but is quickly brought back to reality when he tries to wrap both arms around Lucas only for the take out bag to hit Lucas’ ass with a dull thunk.

“Ow, what the fuck.” Lucas pulls away, spinning on the spot as he looks for the offender.

“Sorry,” Eliott laughs, lifting the bag. “I bought food. Peace offering.” 

“Oh my god, you’re so smart,” Lucas says, sounding genuinely pleased. “I apologize in advance though, he thinks he’s my dad sometimes.” 

“Damn right!” Yann shouts from behind the door. 

“Jesus.” Lucas mutters under his breath. “You ready?” 

Eliott nods, rehearsing the quick speech he’d made up in his head during the ride back to Lucas’ place. All that preparation’s for nothing, however, when all Yann does is look at him when the door finally opens. He looks at Eliott like he’d done weeks ago, when Eliott had taken Lucas home after the encounter with his father, unspoken understanding passing between the two of them as easy as that.

 _I technically have no right to be mad but I am_ , Yann’s usually kind eyes are hardened earth. _There’ll be hell to pay if you pull that shit again_ , the look in them all but screams mistrust. 

Eliott nods, hoping Yann also understands his most sincere but wordless response— _never again_. 

The stare off probably only lasts a few seconds but to Eliott, it feels like an eternity before Yann’s eyes start to squint, one hand reaching for the take out bag that Eliott has stuck in the space between the two of them. Slowly, Yann takes a hold of it, snatches the bag from Eliott’s grip, and sniffs into it. He’s still squinting at Eliott as he walks backwards to take the food inside the kitchen.

“Okay, _weird_ but blessedly silent. I’ll take it,” Lucas huffs, taking Eliott’s hand and dragging him past the living room and into the little hallway. Belatedly, Eliott realizes that they’re headed straight for the bedroom, Lucas marching them towards the door like a man on a mission. 

“Don’t you wanna eat?” Eliott asks, pulling back to slow Lucas down. “I bought that for you too.” 

“Later, I just,” Lucas pauses, his door already wide open once they reach it. “I have to ask you something.” 

Well that doesn’t sound foreboding at all. Eliott clears his throat. “Okay.” 

They arrange themselves on the foot of the bed, legs crossed and facing each other. When Lucas starts fidgeting, Eliott reaches over to intertwine their fingers together. 

“I know we joked about it before… or more like just yesterday actually… but uh,” Lucas starts, looking around the room to avoid meeting Eliott’s eyes head on. “So Marie’s home now and I’m taking Champ back to her on Thursday.”

“Okay,” Eliott says, smiling when Lucas discreetly looks at him from the corner of his eyes. 

“Okay, um.” Lucas takes a deep breath and spills the rest out on a long exhale. “My mom will be there too and I was wondering if you’d like to come?” He’s wincing by the time the question ends and Eliott, endeared, can only stare. “Maybe? You don’t have to. I understand if it’s too early or whatever—”

Eliott brings their tangled hands up to his lips and rains down kisses to the back of Lucas’ palms until he shuts up. 

“I’ll come,” he says, and then after a short silence continues with, “I’d love to.” 

Lucas’ relief is palpable. 

“Okay. That’s… that’s good.” 

“You’re cute when you’re all nervous like this,” Eliott teases, wanting to see Lucas’ smile. Sure, it’s only been a couple of minutes since he’s last seen it but Eliott’s one greedy motherfucker when comes to Lucas. 

“What?” The corner of Lucas’ lips tilts up, but it’s not quite the smile Eliott’s looking for.

“You’re all nice and cute when you’re nervous. No room for snarking or swearing at me.”

“Shut up.”

“Ah, it was good while it lasted.”

“Shut up!” Lucas laughs, kicking at Eliott’s knee.

“Oh you’re kicking me now too, my god, such violence from a tiny human.”

“You’re so dumb.” Lucas pushes at his shoulder and Eliott goes down easily, but not before winding an arm around Lucas so that his boyfriend falls on top of him in their descent. “Such an idiot.”

“ _Your_ idiot,” Eliott retorts as cheesily as can be, grinning when Lucas laughs again, eyes scrunched and mouth open. 

“God, do you ever shut up?” 

“Yeah, there’s one way to shut me up.” 

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, you’re really good at it.”

Lucas leans down and Eliott feels the smile on his lips. The kisses start off as innocent pecks, short and dry, until Lucas brushes their noses together and teases the tip of his tongue in between Eliott’s slightly parted lips. 

Eliott surges up then, locking their lips together as he moves, sitting upright with his arms still secured around Lucas. His boyfriend goes along with it, easily shuffling around so that he’s sat comfortably on Eliott’s lap, hands slightly cold against the back of Eliott’s neck, but the latter doesn’t mind— Lucas’ mouth is scorching enough to make up for it. 

His jacket gets tossed to the floor at some point and his hands wander inside Lucas’ hoodie, searching for the warmth of his skin under, encouraged by the way Lucas tightens his arms around Eliott’s shoulders when he runs a hand from the nape of Lucas’ neck down to the dip low on his back. The intensity reminds him of their first time— only slightly, because Eliott doesn’t think anything could come close to that night. But he recalls the warm weight of Lucas on his lap, against the wall, over him, under him. Recalls the way he’d jokingly asked Lucas how many fingers he’s holding up. How Lucas had _very non jokingly_ slipped the two fingers in his mouth and licked around them until Eliott lost his mind.

The memory of it has heat rushing up and down Eliott’s body in frantic jolts, melting away his higher functions until he finally flips them over, gently laying Lucas down below him just like he’s always done. His fingers lightly dance along the line of Lucas' jeans and the latter lets him, Lucas’ hands exploring the wide expanse of Eliott’s back under his shirt. 

And that’s something new— not Lucas touching him no, but rather the confidence he exudes in bed. Eliott doesn’t think he’d ever forget the shakiness of Lucas’ breath, the furious drumming of his pulse, the flinches he’s tried so hard to cover up. Eliott’s noticed every single one of them, often pausing to suggest for them to stop only for Lucas to hold him by the sides of his face and mutter a determined, _keep going_.

Back then he couldn’t figure out if there’s a story behind it, or if Lucas is only nervous about being intimate with someone else. Now that he knows, can extrapolate the details from what Lucas has told him so far, Eliott’s heart is close to bursting with the realization of how much trust Lucas has placed in his hands that very first time. Of how much trust he continues to have in Eliott despite all that’s happened. 

 _I love you_ , his touch speaks, lingering and light over the smooth skin of Lucas’ waist.

 _I love you_ , his eyes repeat, insistent, hopeless, as they meet Lucas’ wide, adoring gaze.

 _I love you_ , his mouth whispers, soundless against the brush of Lucas’ lips, plush softness falling open under the gentle touch of Eliott’s tongue.

 _I love you_ , he wants to say, out loud, with all his anxious, fragile heart but what comes out instead is a nearly inaudible, “You’re so beautiful.” 

Maybe someday, he’ll be able to speak as it is. Someday, he’ll work up the courage to stop hiding behind soft touches and pretty words. But as Eliott opens his eyes on a slow blink, he looks down at Lucas and catches the most tender of smiles directed up at him. Maybe words aren’t needed right now. For Lucas, in this moment, maybe Eliott is enough. 

“No, you,” Lucas retorts childishly, arching up to press a giggle into Eliott’s amused smile. 

“This is a losing battle, baby.” Eliott nuzzles his cheeks, nose instinctively wrinkling when Lucas kisses the tip of it. The sweltering heat has cooled between them, replaced by a softer kind of warmth.

“Yeah, _your_ losing battle,” Lucas says, trying to shift from under Eliott’s weight. “ _Baby_ ,” he adds in a whisper, smile cheeky when Eliott’s head snaps up to look at him. He sputters, unfairly flustered at hearing Lucas use that pet name, _any_ pet name in fact, for the _first time_ —

“Are you being a brat?” Eliott tries to keep his voice stern, but he’s pretty sure his eyes give it away as Lucas dissolves into helpless giggles. “Are you being a brat?” he repeats a little louder, hands splayed widely over Lucas’ sides, curling up where his boyfriend is most ticklish.

“No!” But it’s too late, Eliott’s already found his weakest spots and proceeds with the attack, relentless despite Lucas’ half formed begging in between his laughter. “Eliott, no! Wait!” he squeaks, turning red when one of Eliott’s hands slide up to tickle at his neck. 

Eliott only stops when Lucas, breathless and teary-eyed, pouts pitifully up at him. Honestly, what human being with a heart could resist that? So he leans down and brings the jut of Lucas’ bottom lip in between his teeth, waiting until his boyfriend opens his mouth on a groan before diving in for a kiss. Lucas’ hands immediately tangle themselves into Eliott’s hair, legs pulling up to wrap around him as if Eliott has any batshit plans of leaving the bed any time soon. Eliott’s shirt is halfway off his back when Lucas’ door creaks open.

They barely let up, both expecting to see Yann coming to interrupt them for whatever reason but the entry way is empty. 

“What—” 

Soft, fast-paced panting is their answer and Eliott’s completely unprepared for when Lucas _shoves_ him off the bed with all his might— Eliott hangs onto the sheets to keep from cracking his head open.

“Oh shit, sorry!” Lucas shouts, dragging Eliott back up to the center of the bed. “I just— Champ’s just a _baby_ , she can’t see that!” 

Eliott doesn’t know whether to agree or laugh. He figures responding with a deadpan _she’s just a dog_ won’t go over too well with Lucas so he keeps that thought to himself. With a sigh, Eliott smooths down his shirt and walks over to where Champ is still panting happily up at them. 

“Are you happy now?” He asks the dog, crouching closer to her level and tapping her tiny nose with a finger. He carries her in his arms on his way out to the living room, turning back to see Lucas attempting to fix his hair as if Yann doesn’t already know what they’ve been up to, alone in the room for at _least_ half an hour. “Come on, baby, let’s keep Yann company before he decides to take back my rights.” 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I kill this chapter or did this chapter kill me? Hmmmm much to think about  
> (It killed me, hence the month long wait for the update) 
> 
> Thank you for reading!!!


	15. Chapter 15

Whoever thought of going to the skate park in this weather is downright insane. It was probably Basile. Yeah, it was most definitely Basile’s brilliant idea. 

And Lucas is a downright moron for agreeing to it. 

He hears Yann whoop loudly after Eliott does a successful trick— Lucas has no clue what it was even though his eyes have been glued on his boyfriend since they arrived. Eliott refuses to put his jacket back on, saying that he runs way too hot to be wearing it to the park, so Lucas finds himself clutching the jacket in between his arms, looking for the perfect opportunity to throw the damn thing over Eliott’s stubborn head. 

Because apparently this is his life now. Chasing after an errant boyfriend to protect him from getting a cold. 

“Eliott,” he calls out for the umpteenth time, feeling a brand new appreciation for his mother; this must’ve been how she felt like whenever he’d ignore the sound of her voice from the play structure way back when. “Eliott!” he repeats, louder now. 

Thankfully, they’re the only ones stupid enough to be there so Lucas doesn’t have to worry about any dirty looks thrown his way for causing such a ruckus. 

Eliott skates up to him eventually, grin wide and arms held out as if he hadn’t been ignoring Lucas’ voice for at least half an hour. Lucas dodges an attempt for a hug, huffing as he reaches around Eliott to place the jacket back over his shoulders— the slant of the shallow bowl Lucas is standing over thankfully makes up for their difference in height. 

He feels extra vindicated when Eliott is unsuccessful in trying to hide a sniffle. “I don’t care if it’s cramping your style,” Lucas says, tugging on the lapels of the jacket until Eliott’s properly covered in it. “You’re not going to wear just a shirt in negative degree weather.”

“It’s not in the negatives yet,” Eliott mumbles but obediently slides his arms into the jacket either way. A thoughtful look falls over his face the next second and then Lucas finds himself being subjected under an exaggerated pout, complete with sad eyes and hunched shoulders. “Actually you’re right, I _am_ cold. Keep me warm?” 

Lucas stares at him with no ounce of pity. “Go do another trick then, I’m sure the adrenaline will warm you up.” 

“But Lucas,” Eliott whines, kicking his board up when it rolls down to jostle his ankles. “I’m too tired for that.” 

“Sounds like a _you_ problem.” Lucas ducks down, hiding a smile behind his scarf, and moves away from Eliott’s grabby hands again. He hears Eliott huff out a laugh but looking up only has him catching an eyeful of Eliott’s soft gaze, pink lips upturned into a crooked smile. Lucas doesn’t realize he’s stopped blinking until his eyes start tearing up from a cold gush of wind. 

“It i _s_ a me problem.” With one hand in his jacket pocket and the other casually holding up his board, Eliott looks every bit the professional model he could be. Lucas tightens the hood thrown over his head and tries not to think about how he must look like some dweeby sock puppet and larva hybrid in comparison. “So hug me.” 

He shakes his head, his entire upper body moving with the act from how bundled up he is. 

Eliott tilts to the side, looking wholly amused. “Please, Lulu?”

Lucas lets out a grunt, hoping Eliott can see his eyes narrowing at the use of a nickname— how dare Eliott use Lucas’ weakness against him?

“Lu?”

He hesitates but stubbornly stands his ground.

“Bab—”

Lucas barely suppresses a squeak before throwing himself at Eliott, effectively shutting him up before he could do something as _dumb_ as calling Lucas _baby_ right in front of their rabid friends. Well, Yann’s still out on the giant bowl teaching Basile how to skate but Arthur is right there, head buried under a scarf and a winter jacket, but there nonetheless. 

Eliott has the gall to chuckle as he basks in the embrace— given under duress, thank you very much, but warm enough what with Lucas’ gazillion layers piled on one after the other. 

“You’re so—” Eliott’s voice is muffled from where his face is buried in Lucas’ shoulder. “Squishy.” He squeezes his arms tight as if to prove a point, like he’s squashing a teddy bear rather than a human being. Lucas feels that he’s in the right to smack his boyfriend upside the head, Eliott’s pitiful yelp notwithstanding. 

“That’s cause I dress for the weather unlike a certain idiot.” Standing on his toes makes him taller from where they’re at so Lucas moves his arms until they fall comfortably around the back of Eliott’s neck, preventing the wind from getting through the exposed skin there. He feels Eliott shiver before a smile is pressed into his neck and lets himself be used as a human heater. 

“If you skate with us, you wouldn’t be so cold.” 

Lucas knows that but he also resents that notion. “No thank you.”

“Does Lucas Lallemant not know how to skateboard?” 

“Does Eliott Demaury want another smack to the head?” 

Eliott laughs, starting to swing them side to side. “Just admit you can’t, Lucas.”

“Can so.” Lucas watches Basile fall on his butt for the thousandth time that day and winces in sympathy. Yeah, no, been there done that. There’s a soft rustling from under him and frankly, Eliott’s arms tightening around his waist should have been a clear warning, but Lucas doesn’t actually react to anything until Eliott hoists him up clear off the ground with a satisfied cackle. “Hey! Wait, what are you— Eliott?!” 

Lucas, rather afraid for his life, clings onto Eliott’s shoulders, screaming close mouthed when he hears Eliott drag his skateboard back by his feet. 

“We’re going for a ride.”

“No the fuck we are _not_ , put me down right now!”

“Come on, just a little bit, it’s gonna be fun.”

“Falling and cracking my head open isn’t my idea of fun.” He squirms in Eliott’s grip, feeling kicking out in hopes of feeling the gravel back underneath them. “If you get on that board right now I swear you’re… you’re grounded.” 

That gets a delighted laugh out of Eliott. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Time out too.”

“Who are you, my mother?”

“No, but I’ll tell _my_ mother that you attempted my murder _this very day_ if you don’t put me down.” 

Grumbling protests aside, Eliott’s pretty quick in relenting after that. He walks the both of them up and out of the ramp and only then does Lucas’ heart stop fucking palpitating. God, he’s going to get a heart attack from one of Eliott’s stunts one day. 

Eliott does bring his board up with them, however, and Lucas hears the scratch of its wheels as he kicks it up the pavement. To his credit, Eliott puts him down as per demanded, but the unsteady surface below his feet clues him in that his asshole boyfriend didn’t quite place him on the _ground_. 

Thankfully, being best friends with Yann ‘Skater Boy’ Cazas does come with perks; Lucas hadn’t been lying about knowing how to ride a stupid skateboard. 

“I’m sorry, please don’t make your mom call the cops on me,” Eliott apologizes, leaning close to steal a swift kiss from Lucas’ cheek and _of course_ Lucas readily forgives him because he’s apparently weak against cute boys who rightfully fear his mama. Very, very weak. 

He pretends to think about it though, biting back a grin as he slides his hands down to fold his fingers between Eliott’s— he’s standing all wrong on the skateboard and his balance is off so he keeps a tight grip on their connected hands to prevent any accidental wipe outs. “Hmmm, I don’t know…”

“Please. It’ll be awkward if my dad has to visit my place only to arrest me.”

Lucas pauses at that, wobbling on the board enough to probably fall over if it weren’t for Eliott’s steadying hands. “Uh, your dad’s a cop?” 

Whatever lighthearted expression had been on Eliott’s face is gone now, which is unfortunate really. Lucas and his dweeby hybrid self had been enjoying it. He knows there’s probably a conversation to be had there somewhere. Just— preferably not in this minute.

But Eliott simply nods, his calculating look melting away into a playful smile. “I let that one slip during a live once, you don’t remember?” 

And _thank god_ for sensitive boyfriends. Lucas takes the smooth misdirection and runs with it. “Alright, let me clear this up.” He pauses for maximum dramatic effect. “Contrary to popular belief, I have _not_ seen every single one of your posts and stories and lives. Okay, maybe I’ve seen all of your posts but I swear I’ve only seen your live _once_.”

“Uh huh.” 

“It’s true!” Lucas tugs on their hands, rolling himself closer to Eliott that way. He digs his chin into Eliott’s chest, looking up into those dreamy grey eyes. 

He can’t believe he just unironically used the word dreamy.

“Okay, so you’re a fake fan then.” Eliott’s smile is too soft to back up his teasing. 

Lucas straightens up, lifts his heels that minuscule bit until his lips are level with Eliott’s. “Sorry this fake fan tricked you.” 

Eliott takes it upon himself to brush the tip of their noses together, the perfect balance of gentle and fleeting that has Lucas tilting up for more. “And how is this fake fan planning to apologize?” 

Lucas huffs out a chuckle, shaking his head before slotting their lips into a small kiss. “How’s that?”

“Mm, no, do it again maybe.” 

There’s a sharp flapping sound by their feet and it distracts Lucas enough to delay the second kiss he’d been planning to deliver. He looks down only to see Arthur staring up at them, phone in hand, evidently unimpressed. Lucas had honestly forgotten about him. 

“Do you guys _mind_?” Arthur gesticulates between the three of them, the vague hand movements has his jacket sleeves flopping about and hitting the pavement. Lucas thinks he gets the gist of what he’s trying to say. Doesn’t mean he cares all that much though. 

“No we don’t mind, actually.” Eliott retaliates, all cheeky and faux oblivious. Lucas bursts out laughing. 

“Just like, take ten steps away from me.” Arthur sits up, shooing them away with one hand. “If I take off my glasses I won’t be able to see how loud you guys are being.” 

It’s a testament to how Lucas is trying his best shot at maturity when he doesn’t roll his eyes immediately. 

“He’s so bold.”

“It’s okay, Imane likes him back.”

“Yeah but I mean, isn’t it a bit intimidating crushing on your best friend’s younger sibling?” 

Lucas shrugs, head perched on Eliott’s shoulder as he absently looks down at Eliott’s phone, where Emir’s cataloguing exactly why he needs to be the most handsome guy at the party later so that Imane would pay attention to him. “Not if it’s Abe. He’s super nice and Emir’s a good guy too so I don’t see why they’d have a problem with it.” 

Eliott takes a moment to respond to Emir, snorting at the immediate barrage of responses he gets. “Still though, what if things go wrong? It’s scary.” 

“Shit happens.” Lucas shifts until he’s able to lay down on Eliott’s lap instead. “So you mean if Lucas 324 is Eliott 324’s best friend’s brother, he wouldn’t go for it? Cause it’s scary?”

The rapid texting above him stops, and Lucas peeks one eye open to watch the disapproving frown on Eliott’s face. “Well if that’s the case, then Eliott 324 better step up.” 

Lucas scoffs, “I’m sure every version of you is charming and perfect and ideal.”

“I can’t tell if that’s sarcasm but thank you either way.” He leans down and rains kisses all over Lucas’ face until a giggling Lucas pushes him away, insisting that his words are a hundred percent sincere. “You have way too much faith in me and my alternate selves. For all we know, Eliott 324 is a massive jerk.” 

“That’s tragic.” Lucas tugs on Eliott’s hand until he has it buried in his hair, fingers carding through the strands in soothing motions. Eliott laughs at his content sigh but he doesn’t care about the inevitable cat jokes when he’s the one who’s really winning here. “Lucas 324 doesn’t like jerks.”

“Very tragic.”

The sound of shoes hitting the metal staircase is loud in the empty building. The footsteps gain in volume the closer they approach, but Lucas doesn’t bother to open his eyes. Doesn’t move even when he hears the fire exit door unlatch with Yann’s familiar laugh following after. 

“There you are!”

“Congratulations,” Lucas says from where he’s still laying down. “You found us.”

“Shut up,” Yann grumps, leaning his board against the wall before plopping onto the floor beside him and Eliott. “Bas and Arthur are getting food, do you guys want anything?” 

Lucas only has enough energy to emit an incoherent groan, rolling over to grab his phone from where it had fallen on Eliott’s other side earlier. “Nah, we have to get going to see mama soon.” 

“Wait, Eliott’s going with you? To see her?” 

He nods, sending off a text confirming with Marie and his mom what time they want them there. “We have to bring Champ back to Marie and mama’s there with her so.” 

When Lucas turns back around, Yann’s wiggling his brows at Eliott. That combined with the giant grin splitting his face is starting to look more disturbing the longer Lucas looks at him. 

Eliott seems to share the sentiment, and he starts laughing a few seconds into their little stare off. “What?” 

“Nothing man, just glad you guys are at meet the parents level.” 

Lucas rolls his eyes, kicking at his best friend’s heel once before resting his ankle on top of Yann’s. “It’s just a casual supper thing.” 

“Uh huh.” 

“Shut your face.”

And because he’s dumb, Yann mimes putting a hand over his face, expression blank when he next uncovers it. Lucas throws a balled up thread he’d ripped off of his jeans earlier and sneaks a glance up at Eliott. They make eye contact, what with Eliott already looking down at Lucas with a large, amused smile.

“Let’s head out then?” Eliott says, then turns to address Yann, “we’ll walk with you to where Arthur and Bas went, don’t worry, can’t have you being all lonely now.” 

“Thanks, you’re so nice, Lucas would never.” Yann dodges another kick to his leg. 

“I thought I told you to shut your face?” Lucas lazily hauls himself off the floor, dusting his pants a bit before turning a confused look at Eliott when he notices him pull out a leather jacket from his backpack. “Why do you have that in there?”

Eliott eyes him like _Lucas_ is the one acting strange. “Babe, I have to look good when we get there, first impressions are important.” 

Lucas can _feel_ his cheeks heating up. He can also practically _feel_ Yann’s googly eyes at the back of his head and the internal screeching reverberating through their shared braincell so he’s resolutely _not_ looking back in that direction. At least Arthur and Basile aren’t present. 

He lets the nickname slip, though, choosing to unwind the scarf around him to wrap Eliott up in it instead. If his boyfriend insists on being unreasonable then Lucas would just have to take care of the missed details. 

The missed detail here being the fact that it’s way too fucking cold for a leather jacket, hot as it may look on Eliott. 

“Mama’s not gonna care if you look like a Calvin Klein model, Eliott.” Oh yes she will. Lucas would probably have to endure a few hours of brow raising and elbow nudging. But Eliott doesn’t need to know that. “But if you’re putting that on then you’re also wearing this scarf and _that’s final_ , mister.” 

Eliott snickers, tugging the scarf off his neck and throwing it around Lucas before pushing the leather jacket back inside his backpack. “Okay, okay, fine, I will. And I’ll change later so it doesn’t get too cold. Happy?” 

Lucas grumpily ducks his head down into his scarf until only his narrowing eyes are visible. “Satisfactory.” 

“You know you guys act like a married couple, right?” Yann pipes up, hugging his skateboard to his chest as he leans back against the exit door.

Lucas shoves the door open and watches Yann tumble backwards with a crash. 

Lucas feels like he’s been holding his breath throughout the entire trip to Marie’s house. He’s not nervous, no, he can’t imagine his mother disliking a single thing about Eliott. But it’s not like he’s had a golden track record of significant others to introduce to his mother so he doesn’t know how these things are supposed to go. Casual as he convinces himself this whole thing is, nothing about it feels all that casual to him.

“You look like you’re about to launch yourself into outer space.” Eliott places a hand on the low of his back once they reach Marie’s front porch, thumb brushing back and forth. “I’m supposed to be the nervous one here.” 

“I’m fine,” Lucas squeaks out, highly unconvincing. At least Eliott finds it hilarious so maybe he wouldn’t be a stuttering mess. 

Marie opens the door on the second knock and immediately takes a wiggling Champ into her arms. “Come on in, boys!” She steps back to open the door wider. “Hello my little Champagne, oh I missed you too, I missed you… just leave your shoes anywhere you can find. Lorraine’s in the kitchen,” she whispers the last part with a wink towards Eliott before walking off. 

Lucas laughs a little, easing up under Marie’s presence. He waits for Eliott by the door and notices how his boyfriend’s moving slower than usual, evidently delaying the actual first meeting part of the meeting. He holds out his hand before it gets too ridiculous. 

“She’ll love you,” he says, raising his hand higher when Eliott looks up at him like a deer in the headlights. “Come on.”

And he’s right. Of course he’s right. 

His mama folds Eliott into a warm embrace the moment they’ve exchanged names, endeared as Eliott _does_ stutter through the introductions. 

“He’s handsome,” she says to Lucas when they pass each other in the living room. And there goes the elbow nudging Lucas had predicted earlier. “Very handsome.”

“I know, mama.” He rolls his eyes, sitting on the piano bench where Champ is napping under. Eliott and Marie are deep in conversation as she shows him a photobook of her family back in Jamaica so Lucas occupies himself with the piano, quietly hitting a few keys while his eyes roam over the top for a music book. 

What he finds instead are papers with his mama and papa’s names on them. 

He snatches them off the top of the piano, skimming through the documents to try and inch out what they’re for as quickly as possible. A hand on his shoulder stops his frantic reading and Lucas looks up at his mom with eyes wide in question. 

“It’s not about the transfer if that’s what you’re thinking.” She sits on the bench beside him and flips the papers until she settles on a page with big letters jumping out from the rest. It goes without question now. 

Application ( **Divorce** )

 **_Divorce_ ** _Order_

When Lucas remains silent, she takes the papers away from his hands and puts them back where he found them. “I think it’s time, don’t you? I brought it over for Marie to read through so…”  

Lucas still doesn’t say anything but he manages a small smile in her direction before tucking her hands in between both of his. They sit there for a bit, just looking at each other, all teary and holding hands. Lucas thinks that _yeah_ , they really are mother and son, getting all sappy at inconvenient times of the day. 

That’s before she laughs again, clear and carefree, and untangles their hands to play a familiar tune on the piano. She glances up at Lucas with a daring smile, one eyebrow raising as if in challenge. 

Lucas bristles, sitting up properly to prove that _yes_ , he can still give her a run for her money. He takes a deep breath, fingers landing soft on the smooth ivory, letting his hands familiarize themselves with the instrument— it’s been a long, long time since he’s last played. But here, sitting beside the woman who’s patiently taught him one echoing tune at a time, there’s no doubt in Lucas’ mind that he could never forget a single piece they’ve played together. 

And it feels so good to be doing this again that it almost pushes him over the edge, almost has him straight up crying. Only almost though. 

There’s complete silence in the living room only seconds after they start, and Lucas’ skin prickles at the feeling of eyes on his back. He doesn’t let it distract him, focused on hitting the correct notes as four hands dance around the length of the piano. 

Riopy’s _I love you_ has always been his mama’s favourite. She’d altered the tune slightly so that both her and Lucas could play it together and for him, right now, it’s never sounded better.

Later, watching Eliott enthusiastically converse with his mama about possibly joining the culinary classes she’s attending (thank god), Lucas thinks it only makes sense for Eliott to be present the moment Lucas plays that particular piece for the first time in years. 

They head out with only a few minutes to spare before the bus to Eliott’s apartment arrives. Both of their group chats are blown up with reminders that they’re all supposed to wear costumes to the party, with explicit mentions of how Eliott and Lucas are specifically not allowed to ditch the party until _at least_ two hours into it. 

“What was that song you guys played?” Eliott asks as they settle into the back seats, huddled together for warmth. 

Lucas hides his face inside the fabric of his hood. “I don’t remember,” he says, biting his lip as he wills for the blush to die down. Maybe they should’ve played one of Chopin’s pieces instead. “I’ll look it up later.” 

Yeah. Much, much later. 

Abe had met up with them at Eliott’s so they could walk to the party together. It was apparently the only way to ensure that Eliott doesn’t cancel at the last minute. He’d complained all the way through about being left out and had even called Idris so they could ‘share their experiences as a third wheel’. 

His actions are made all the more ridiculous considering Abe is wearing a fucking banana suit to the party. 

Lucas secretly thinks that he wouldn’t have minded staying in, just him and Eliott on the couch with a movie and some snacks. 

But now he’s standing by the walls at this party, alone with the one drink he’s been nursing since the start, watching his friends jump around on the dance floor as the strobe lights cut through the dark to illuminate the wide smiles they share. 

It’s not that he’s bored. He’s just a little tired from the day he’s had and he could probably only dance as rigorously as everyone else for about five minutes before throwing the towel in. God, he’s getting old. 

Eyes searching, it doesn’t take very long for him to spot Eliott— he stands out after all. Tall and handsome even in a simple hoodie, messy head of hair bobbing along to the bass of the music. Eliott’s been swept into conversation by many, _many_ people all night long and of course his boyfriend’s too sweet to snub them all. It seems like everyone’s constantly vying for his attention, just like that first party they’d attended together, and Lucas is still a little baffled witnessing it. He’s very quickly understanding why Eliott isn’t too fond of attending parties if this is how they always go for him. 

A loud whoop from the dance floor steals his attention and Lucas laughs at the sight of Basile flailing around in a dance battle against _Abe_ of all people. It’s really not a good look to lose a dance battle against a walking banana. But Abe’s unfortunately just that good. 

Imane and Alexia are on the floor, collapsed in laughter. Beside them, Manon and Adam start clapping and cheering when Yann jumps to Basile’s rescue, flailing into a more acceptable dance routine that has Abe jokingly backing off, pulling Idris and Omar into the center of the circle for their turn at the dance off. Daphne is making wide eyes at Emir, poking him in the ribs hard enough to have him flinching closer to where Imane is slowly regaining her wits. Emma is at the bar struggling to balance a tray of drinks in her hands. He certainly hopes those are for the whole group rather than for her alone. 

Lucas hides what he knows must be another dumb smile on his face, watching his friends and Eliott’s friends interact like they’ve always been a huge messy group of idiots rather than only having met each other recently. Never did he allow himself to imagine that his and Eliott’s lives would merge in this way.

“What’s a beautiful guy like you doing here all alone?” Eliott whispers in his ear and Lucas is so startled he almost spills his drink on the both of them. 

But he recovers quickly, snorting at Eliott’s words. “I’m not alone, actually.” 

“Oh. No?” Eliott’s leaning on the wall beside him now, and Lucas thinks _he’s_ the beautiful one here, so beautiful even the lights are shy as they strike flitting colours over his hair, his cheeks, his radiant eyes, his smiling lips.

“Mhm, I have a boyfriend but he keeps ditching me for other people. You’ve probably seen him around.”

“Sounds like a terrible boyfriend,” Eliott says, “I suggest you break up with him and run away with me.” 

“What, right now?” Lucas plays along, discarding his drink on the first steady surface he finds. “I don’t know, he’s kinda cute.” 

“I’m cuter.”

Lucas laughs at that, hands anchoring themselves on Eliott’s shoulder as he stands on the tips of his toes. “I can’t see you clearly.” 

Eliott leans down to meet him halfway, catching his lips in a sweet kiss. Literally. He tastes like Fruitopia and somehow, that’s a funny enough thought to have Lucas melting into a heap of giggles. He feels Eliott’s amused huff against his hair before Lucas is being dragged back up, breath catching into a deeper kiss, and all thoughts of fruity drinks are quickly gone from his mind.

Warm hands insistently pull him off the wall and into Eliott’s chest, but it isn’t a hard feat anyway— it’s not like Lucas has any plans to fight against it. He brings his own hands up, sliding from shoulder to neck to the back of Eliott’s head where clumsy fingers tangle themselves into the soft strands they find there. He pulls away soon after, heartbeat off rhythm and lungs begging. His next inhale is an intoxicating mix of cologne and alcohol and _Eliott_. 

“Can you see me now?” 

Lucas smiles, hands moving to rest on either side of Eliott’s cheeks. Even in the dark, he’s the most precious thing Lucas has ever seen. “I see you.” 

And maybe, just maybe, Lucas number 1 did alright in this universe after all. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We really are.... reaching the end huh....
> 
> I'll save the emo end notes for the epilogue though (☞ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)☞


End file.
